THE  IRON  FURROW 


tIBRARy> 


"UNDER  THE  HAT  BRIM  DRAWN  FORWARD  TO  His 
LINE  OF  VISION  His  EYES  .  .  .  GAZED  FORTH  KEEN 
AND  OBSERVANT" 


THE  IRON 
FURROW 


BY  GEORGE  C.  SHEDD 


FRONTISPIECE  BY 

HENRY  A.  BOTKIN 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY 

Publishers  New  York 

Published   by    arrangement    with    Doubleday,    Page   &    Company 


,     COPYBIGHT,  1919,  1920,  BY 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE   &   COMPANY 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED,  INCLUDING  THAT  OF 

TRANSLATION  INTO  FOREIGN  LANGUAGES, 

INCLUDING  THE  SCANDINAVIAN 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 

AT 
THE  COUNTBY  LIFE  PRESS,  GARDEN  CITY,  N.  Y. 


THE  IRON  FURROW 


2132742 


THE  IRON  FURROW 

CHAPTER  I 

The  Ventisquero  Range  stretches  across  the  circumfer- 
ence of  one's  vision  in  a  procession  of  mountains  that  come 
tall  and  blue  out  of  the  distant  north  and  seemingly  march 
past  to  vanish  in  the  remote  south  like  azure  phantoms. 
The  mountains  wall  the  horizon  and  dominate  the  mesa, 
their  black  forest-clad  flanks  crumpled  and  broken  and 
gashed  by  canons,  lifting  above  timber-line  peaks  of  bare 
brown  rock  that  pierce  the  clouds  floating  along  the  range. 
At  sunrise  they  cast  immense  shadows  upon  the  mesa 
spreading  westward  from  their  base;  and  at  sunset  they 
reflect  golden  and  purple  glows  upon  the  plain  until  the 
earth  appears  swimming  in  some  iridescent  sea  of  ether; 
while  over  them  from  dawn  till  dusk,  traversed  by  a  few 
fleecy  clouds,  lies  the  turquoise  sky  of  New  Mexico. 

At  a  certain  point  in  the  range  a  small  canon  opens  upon 
the  mesa  with  a  gush  of  gravel  and  sand  that  flows  a  short 
way  into  the  sagebrush  and  forms  a  creek  bed.  Tucked 
back  in  the  little  canon  there  is  a  considerable  growth  of 
bushes  and  trees,  cool  and  fresh-looking  in  the  shadow  of  the 
gorge  during  the  summer  season,  a  splash  of  vivid  green 
there  at  the  bottom  of  the  dusty  gray  mountain,  but  at  the 
canon's  mouth  this  verdure  ceases. 


THE     IRON    FURROW 

Only  an  insignificant  stream  of  water  ran,  one  day,  in  the 
stony  creek  bed  that  meandered  out  upon  the  mesa,  and  it 
appeared  under  the  hot  July  sun  and  among  the  hot  stones 
for  all  the  world  like  a  rivulet  of  liquid  glass.  That  was  all 
the  mesa  had  to  show,  only  its  endless  gray  sagebrush  and 
the  creek  bed  almost  dry — unless  one  should  reckon  the 
three  parched  cottonwood  trees  beside  the  stream,  a  little 
way  down  from  the  canon,  and  the  flat-roofed  adobe  house 
near  by,  and  the  empty  corral  behind  built  of  aspen  poles. 
In  that  immensity  of  mountain  and  mesa  the  house  looked 
like  a  brick  of  sun-baked  mud,  the  corral  like  a  child's  device 
of  straws,  the  three  cottonwoods  like  three  twigs  stuck  in 
the  earth.  Or,  at  any  rate,  that  is  how  they  appeared  to  a 
horseman  regarding  them  from  the  main  mesa  trail  a  mile 
away. 

The  rider,  a  slender  tanned  young  fellow  of  about  twenty- 
eight,  sat  in  the  saddle  with  the  relaxed  ease  of  habit  which 
allowed  his  body  to  accommodate  itself  to  the  steady  jogging 
trot  of  his  horse.  A  roll  comprising  clothes  wrapped  in  a 
black  rubber  coat  was  tied  behind  the  cantle.  His  Stetson 
hat  was  tilted  up  at  the  rear  and  down  in  front  almost  on  his 
nose — a  thin,  bony  nose,  slightly  curved  and  with  the  sug- 
gestion of  a  hook  in  the  tip,  just  the  sort  of  nose  to  accord 
with  his  lean,  sunburnt  cheeks  and  clean-cut  chin  and 
straight-lipped  mouth.  Under  the  hat  brim  drawn  forward 
to  his  line  of  vision  his  eyes,  notwithstanding  his  air  of 
lounging  indolence,  gazed  forth  keen  and  observant.  He 
had  the  appearance  of  a  man  who  might  be  seeking  a  few 
stray  cattle,  or  riding  to  town  for  mail,  and  in  no  particular 
hurry  about  it,  either,  this  hot  afternoon;  but,  for  all  that, 

4 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Lee  Bryant  was  proceeding  on  important  business — impor- 
tant for  him,  anyhow.  When  everything  pne  possesses  is 
about  to  be  risked  on  a  venture,  the  matter  is  naturally 
vital;  and  at  this  moment  he  was  moving  straight  to  the 
initiative  of  his  enterprise. 

Where  the  road  crossed  the  creek  bed  to  continue  north- 
ward, a  trail  branched  off  and  followed  up  the  stream  to 
the  little  ranch  house  by  the  three  cottonwood  trees.  Here 
the  creek  had  not  yet  begun  to  cut  an  arroyo  and  had  washed 
merely  a  course  five  or  six  feet  deep  and  some  fifty  feet  wide 
through  the  mesa,  so  that  from  a  distance  the  shallow  gash 
was  invisible  and  the  ground  appeared  unbroken.  It  was 
because  of  the  flat  character  of  the  mesa,  too,  that  Bryant  on 
reaching  the  bank  of  the  stream  was  able  to  see  on  the  oppo- 
site side  two  persons  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off  riding  toward 
him;  women,  he  perceived.  Far  north  of  them  on  the  road, 
a  black  spot  in  a  haze  of  dust,  seemingly  motionless  but  as 
one  could  guess  advancing  rapidly,  was  an  automobile. 

Bryant  rode  his  horse  down  into  the  creek  bed  and  turned 
him  aside  to  a  small  pool  on  the  upper  side  of  the  crossing, 
under  the  cut-bank,  where  the  horse  thrust  his  muzzle  into 
the  water  and  drank  greedily.  The  rider  swung  himself  out 
of  the  saddle,  knelt  a  pace  beyond,  where  the  rivulet  trickled 
into  the  pool,  and  also  drank. 

"Wet  anyway,  even  if  warm,  eh,  Dick?"  he  remarked, 
when  done.  "Don't  drink  it  all,  old  scout;  leave  a  swallow 
for  the  ladies."  Still  on  his  knees  he  looked  appraisingly 
down  the  creek  and  then  up  it,  and  added  derisively,  "Some 
stream,  this  Perro,  some  stream!" 

After  rolling  and  lighting  a  cigarette,  he  meditated  for  a 

5 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

time  in  the  same  kneeling  position.  His  horse  finished  drink- 
ing and  moved  a  step  nearer  his  master,  where  he  stood  with 
head  lowered,  water  dripping  from  his  lip,  body  inert.  But 
presently  he  pricked  his  ears  and  turning  his  head  toward 
the  other  bank  gave  a  low  whinny.  Bryant  got  to  his  feet. 

The  two  women  he  had  beheld  at  a  distance  had  now 
reached  the  ford.  Their  ponies  snuffing  water  immediately 
dipped  into  the  creek  bed  and  crossed  its  sandy  bottom  with 
quickened  steps.  Young  women  the  riders  were,  scarcely 
more  than  girls,  it  seemed  to  Bryant;  wearing  divided  khaki 
skirts  and  white  shirt  waists  and  wide-brimmed  straw  hats 
tied  with  thongs  under  their  chins.  In  this  region  where 
white  men  were  none  too  numerous,  and  women  of  their  own 
kind  scarcer  yet,  and  girls  scarcest  of  all,  the  presence  here 
of  the  pair  aroused  in  the  young  fellow  a  lively  interest. 

He  led  Dick  aside  that  their  ponies  might  approach  the 
pool. 

"Thank  you;  they  are  very  thirsty,"  said  the  nearer  girl, 
with  a  nod.  The  ponies  plunged  forefeet  into  the  water  and 
stood  thus  with  noses  buried,  drinking  with  eager  gulps. 
"The  afternoon  is  so  hot  and  the  road  so  dusty,"  the  speaker 
continued,  "that  the  poor  things  were  almost  choked." 

She  was  the  smaller  of  the  pair,  of  medium  height  and 
having  a  graceful,  well-molded  figure,  with  frank  gray  eyes, 
a  nose  showing  a  few  freckles,  smooth  soft  cheeks  slightly 
reddened  by  sun,  and  an  expressive  mouth.  Bryant  judged 
that  she  had  small,  firm  hands,  but  could  not  see  them  as 
she  wore  gauntlets.  He  further  decided  that  she  was 
neither  plain  nor  pretty:  just  average  good-looking,  one 
might  say.  An  air  of  friendliness  was  in  her  favour,  though 

6 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

what  might  or  might  not  be  a  prepossessing  trait,  depending 
on  circumstances,  was  the  suggested  obstinacy  in  her  round 
chin. 

"Don't  you  yourselves  wish  a  drink?  You  must  be 
thirsty,  too,"  Bryant  addressed  the  young  ladies.  "If 
your  ponies  won't  stand,  I'll  look  after  them." 

"Oh,  they'll  not  run  off,  unless  we  forget  to  let  the  reins 
hang,  as  has  happened  once  or  twice,"  said  the  girl  who 
previously  had  spoken.  "For  they're  regular  cow-ponies. 
At  first  we  had  a  hard  time  remembering  just  to  drop  the 
lines  when  we  dismounted  instead  of  tying  them  to  a  post 
somewhere;  and  for  a  while  we  had  a  feeling  that  they 
certainly  would  gallop  off  if  we  did  let  the  reins  hang,  as  we'd 
been  instructed.  But  they  never  did."  She  turned  to  her 
companion.  "Imo,  aren't  you  thirsty?  I'm  going  to  get 
down  and  have  a  drink."  With  which  she  swung  herself 
down  from  her  saddle  upon  the  sand. 

The  second  girl  was  tall  and  thin,  lacking  both  the  spirits 
and  stamina  of  the  other;  a  crown  of  fluffy  golden  hair  was 
hinted  by  the  little  of  it  the  young  fellow  could  see  under  the 
brim  of  her  big  hat;  her  eyes  were  of  a  soft  blue  colour,  prob- 
ably weak;  while  her  face,  the  skin  of  which  was  exceedingly 
white  with  but  a  tinge  of  the  sun's  fiery  burn,  was  regular 
of  feature  and  delicately  formed. 

She  walked  to  the  rill  languidly,  where  stooping  she  drank 
from  her  palm.  Most  of  the  water  that  she  dipped  escaped 
before  reaching  her  lips;  and  Bryant  doubted  if  she  were 
really  successful  in  quenching  her  thirst.  The  heat,  the 
dust,  and  the  ride  appeared  to  have  been  almost  too  much 
for  her  strength,  exhausting  her  slender  store  of  vitality. 

7 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

The  other  girl,  who  had  coiled  herself  down  by  the  trickling 
stream  and  bent  forward  resting  her  hands  in  the  water, 
drank  directly  from  the  rivulet. 

"There,  that's  the  way  to  do  it,  Imo,"  she  declared,  when 
she  had  straightened  up,  hat-brim,  nose,  chin,  all  dripping. 
"Like  the  ponies!  I  hope  I  haven't  lost  my  handkerchief." 
And  she  began  to  search  about  her  waist. 

"  I'd  fall  flat  in  the  water  if  I  tried  it,  as  sure  as  the  world," 
the  taller  girl  responded. 

They  rose  to  their  feet  and  joined  Bryant. 

"You're  the  young  ladies  who  are  homesteading  just 
south  of  here,  aren't  you?"  he  inquired,  politely. 

"Yes,  two  miles  south  on  Sarita  Creek,"  the  smaller 
answered.  Then  after  an  appraising  regard  of  him  she 
continued,  "We  took  our  claims  only  last  April.  And 
they're  not  very  good  claims,  either,  we're  beginning  to  fear; 
the  creek  goes  dry  about  this  time.  That's  why  no  one  had 
filed  on  the  locations  before.  Have  you  a  ranch  somewhere 
near?" 

"No.  That  is,  not  yet.  I'm  a  civil  engineer,  but  I'm 
thinking  strongly  of  settling  down  here.  If  I  do,  we  shall  be 
neighbours.  My  name  is  Lee  Bryant;  this  is  my  horse  Dick; 
and  I've  a  dog  called  Mike,  which  stopped  aways  back  on 
the  road  to  investigate  a  prairie  dog  hole.  Now  you  know 
who  we  are,"  he  concluded,  with  a  smile. 

The  girl  thereupon  told  him  her  name  was  Ruth  Gardner 
and  that  of  her  companion  Imogene  Martin. 

"We'll  be  very  glad  to  have  you  call  at  our  little  ranch 
when  you're  riding  by,"  Ruth  Gardner  said,  graciously. 
"Aside  from  Imogene's  uncle  and  aunt,  who  live  in  Kennard 

8 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

and  who've  come  to  see  us  several  times,  we've  not  had  a 
single  visitor  in  the  three  months  and  a  half  we've  been 
there,  except  once  an  old  Mexican  who  was  herding  sheep 
near  by  and  came  to  ask  for  matches.  Of  course,  not  many 
people  know  we're  there,  I  imagine.  From  the  road  one 
can't  see  our  cabins — we  had  to  have  two,  you  know,  one 
for  each  claim,  and  they  sit  side  by  side — because  they're 
in  the  mouth  of  the  canon  among  the  trees.  It's  really  cool 
and  pleasant  there  during  the  heat  of  the  day.  Any  time 
you  come,  you'll  be  welcome." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Bryant,"  Imogene  Martin  affirmed.  "A  man 
now  and  then  in  the  scenery  will  help  out  wonderfully." 

"I'll  stop  the  first  time  I'm  passing,"  he  stated. 

Lee  Bryant  understood  the  significance  of  the  invitation: 
they  were  starved  for  company  and  would  be  grateful  for 
the  society  of  a  person  they  believed  respectable.  He  had 
seen  a  good  deal  of  homes teading  conditions  in  the  West; 
he  knew  the  hardships  involved  in  "holding  down"  claims, 
of  which  the  dreary  monotony  and  loneliness  of  the  life  were 
not  the  least.  One  earned  ten  times  over  every  bit  one  got 
of  a  free  government  homestead.  For  men  it  was  bad 
enough;  but  for  woman,  for  girls  like  these,  who  had  prob- 
ably come  from  the  East  in  trustful  ignorance  and  with 
rosy  visions,  the  homestead  venture  impressed  him  not  only 
as  pitiful  but  as  tragic. 

"I'll  certainly  ride  down  to  see  you,"  he  assured  them 
again. 

"And  perhaps,  being  an  engineer,  you'll  show  us  why 
the  water  doesn't  run  downhill  in  our  bean  patch,  as  it 
ought  to  do,"  Imogene  Martin  remarked. 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Bryant  laughed  and  nodded  agreement. 

"You'll  find  that  it's  your  eyes,  and  not  the  water,  that 
have  been  playing  tricks,"  he  said.  "Ground  levels  and 
ditch  grades  are  deceiving  tilings  close  to  the  mountains, 
because  the  latter  tilt  one's  natural  line  of  vision.  That's 
why  water  seems  to  run  uphill  when  you  look  toward  the 
range.  I'll  soon  fix  your  ditch  line  when  I  set  an  instru- 
ment in  your  bean  patch  and  sight  through  it  once  or  twice. 
The  water  will  behave  after  that,  I  promise  you." 

They  continued  to  chat  of  this  and  of  the  failing  of 
Santa  Creek,  until  the  automobile  that  Bryant  had  earlier 
sighted  shot  into  view  on  the  northern  bank  of  the  creek, 
whence  at  decreased  speed  it  descended  into  the  bottom  and 
ground  its  way  across  through  sand  and  gravel.  Driving 
the  hooded  car  was  a  man  of  about  thirty  years,  of  slim 
figure  and  with  a  pale  olive  skin  that  betrayed  an  ad- 
mixture of  American  and  Mexican  blood.  Beside  him  in 
the  front  seat  sat  a  girl  whose  clear  pink  complexion  made 
plain  that  in  her  was  no  mingling  of  races;  her  hat  held  by 
a  streaming  blue  veil  and  her  form  incased  in  a  silk  dust 
coat.  The  tonneau  was  occupied  by  two  men:  one  an 
American  with  a  van  dyke  beard  sprinkled  with  gray,  the 
other  a  short,  stout,  swarthy  Mexican,  whose  sweeping 
white  moustache  was  in  marked  contrast  to  his  coffee- 
coloured  face. 

The  car,  with  radiator  steaming  and  hissing,  was  stopped 
at  a  spot  close  to  where  Lee  Bryant  and  his  companions 
stood.  The  young  man  at  the  wheel,  unlatching  the  door, 
stepped  out. 

"I'll  bet  the  stop-cock  of  the  radiator  is  open,"  he  ad- 

10 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

dressed  the  girl  with  the  blue  veil,  "or  the  engine  wouldn't 
be  so  hot."  After  making  an  examination  of  the  faucet, 
he  returned  to  the  door  and  procured  a  folding  canvas 
bucket,  saying,  "That's  the  trouble,  and  the  radiator  is 
empty." 

But  the  young  lady  scarcely  heeded  him.  She  had 
loosened  the  blue  veil  knotted  at  her  throat  and  pushed  it 
back  from  her  cheeks  to  free  them  to  the  air;  she  sat  re- 
garding with  interested  eyes  the  group  of  three  standing  a 
few  paces  off  by  the  horses.  In  her  gaze,  too,  there  was  a 
faint  curiosity,  as  if  she  wondered  who  the  persons  might  be, 
and  what  they  were  doing  here,  and  of  what  they  had  been 
conversing  when  interrupted.  An  exceedingly  lovely  girl 
she  was,  as  the  engineer  had  instantly  perceived;  her 
features  molded  in  soft  lines  and  curves  that  enchanted,  a 
tint  like  that  of  peach  petals  in  her  cheeks,  with  warm,  sen- 
sitive lips  and  brown,  shining  eyes — a  radiant,  intelligent 
face.  Against  the  background  of  the  place,  the  creek  bed 
of  sand  and  stones  and  the  banks  fringed  with  dusty  sage- 
brush, she  glowed  with  the  freshness  of  a  desert  rose. 

The  driver  of  the  car  took  a  step  toward  Bryant,  ex- 
tending the  bucket. 

"Dip  me  some  water  out  of  that  hole  while  I  look  at  my 
tires,  will  you?  "  he  said. 

At  the  words,  which  were  rather  more  of  a  command  than 
a  request,  the  engineer  regarded  him  fixedly  while  the  blood 
stirred  beneath  his  tan,  but  finally  took  the  bucket.  The 
other  turned  back  to  the  car,  where  he  made  a  pretense  of 
inspecting  a  front  wheel  and  then,  with  a  foot  on  the  run- 
ning-board and  elbow  resting  on  knee,  twisting  indolently 

n 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

a  point  of  his  small  moustache,  he  began  to  converse  with 
his  companion  of  the  blue  veil. 

Bryant  filled  the  radiator.  Two  trips  to  the  pool  were 
necessary  to  obtain  enough  water  for  that  purpose,  but  he 
finished  the  job  with  the  same  thoroughness  that  he  went 
through  with  any  business  once  undertaken,  whether  pleas- 
ant or  otherwise.  As  he  poured  the  contents  of  the  bucket 
into  the  radiator's  spout,  he  took  stock  of  the  automobile 
party.  His  face  hardened  with  a  slight  contempt  when  he 
considered  the  effeminate-appearing  young  Mexican  who 
had  bade  him  bring  water  and  the  girl  talking  with  him; 
which  she  must  have  noticed  and  taken  to  herself,  for  when 
their  eyes  met  he  saw  that  a  flush  dyed  her  cheeks  and  that 
she  bit  her  lip  nervously. 

He  snapped  the  radiator  cap  shut.  At  the  click  the  man 
stopped  fingering  his  moustache,  ended  his  talk,  mounted 
to  his  seat,  and  started  the  engine.  Bryant  handed  him  the 
bucket,  folded  flat  again,  which  the  recipient  tossed  down  by 
his  feet. 

"Here,  my  man,"  said  the  olive-skinned  young  fellow  at 
the  wheel,  with  a  forefinger  and  thumb  searching  a  waist- 
coat pocket  as  the  car  began  slowly  to  move  forward. 

He  tossed  a  quarter  to  the  engineer.  Bryant  instinct- 
ively caught  it,  as  one  catches  any  suddenly  thrown  object. 
For  an  instant  he  remained  transfixed,  incredulous,  astound- 
ed, then  the  blood  flamed  in  his  face  and  he  cast  the  coin 
back  at  its  donor. 

"  No  Mexican  can  throw  money  to  me ! "  he  exclaimed. 

For  answer  he  received  an  angry  look  and  snarled  word 
from  the  driver.  Beyond  the  man  Bryant  beheld  the 

12 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

startled,  embarrassed,  and  yet  interested  face  of  the  girl 
with  the  veil,  her  lips  a  little  parted,  her  eyes  intent  on  him. 
Then  the  car  lurched  out  of  the  sand,  splashed  through  the 
rivulet,  ascended  the  inclined  roadway  of  the  creek  bank, 
and  sped  from  view. 

The  sudden  spark  of  antagonism  flashing  between  the 
engineer  and  the  young  Mexican  made  the  two  girls  by  the 
ponies  acutely  aware  that  the  horseman  after  all  was  a 
stranger,  a  man  of  whom  they  knew  nothing,  an  unknown 
quantity.  And  so  the  two  exchanged  a  glance  and  drew  on 
their  gauntlets  and  said  they  must  be  riding  home.  There- 
upon Bryant  assisted  them  to  mount. 

As  he  separated  from  them  to  follow  the  trail  up  the 
creek  to  the  ranch  house  by  the  three  cottonwoods,  Ruth 
Gardner  called  to  him  not  to  forget  his  promised  visit  to 
their  cabins.  He  assured  them  he  should  remember. 
When  the  girls  were  some  distance  off,  they  waved  across 
the  sagebrush  at  him  and  he  swung  his  hat  in  reply.  Off 
then  the  pair  went  at  a  gallop,  with  the  automobile  on  the 
road  far  south  of  them  leaving  a  hazy  streamer  of  dust  above 
the  earth;  the  riders  going  farther  and  farther  away,  be- 
coming smaller  and  smaller  on  the  mesa,  until  at  last  they 
were  but  bobbing  specks  in  the  golden  sunshine. 


CHAPTER  II 

As  Lee  Bryant  reined  his  horse  to  a  stop  before  the  small 
ranch  house,  a  man  seated  on  a  stool  just  within  the  open 
doorway  rose  and  came  out  to  join  him.  He  was  a  man  of 
thin,  stooped  body;  his  sandy  hair  streaked  with  gray  formed 
a  fringe  about  his  bald  crown;  and  on  his  lined,  sunburnt  face 
there  rested  a  shadow  of  worry  that  appeared  to  be  habitual. 
Bryant  dismounted  and  shook  hands  with  the  ranchman. 

"Well,  how  are  you  making  it,  Mr.  Stevenson?"  he 
greeted.  "As  I  promised  if  I  should  be  riding  by  this  way 
again,  I've  stopped  to  say  'howdy.'  Doesn't  seem  a  month 
has  passed  since  I  stayed  over  night  with  you?  How's 
Mrs.  Stevenson?  Hope  you're  both  well." 

"Just  feeling  fair,  just  fair.  Glad  you  stopped,  Bryant," 
was  the  answer.  "My  wife  was  wondering  only  the  other 
day  what  had  become  of  you.  Bring  your  horse  around  to 
the  corral." 

They  went  behind  the  house,  where  the  young  man  re- 
moved saddle  and  bridle  from  Dick  and  turned  him  into 
the  enclosure.  Stevenson  gathered  an  armful  of  hay  from 
a  small  heap  near  by  and  tossed  it  over  the  fence  to  the 
horse,  which  began  to  eat  eagerly.  Lee  glanced  about, 
gave  a  sharp  whistle;  from  the  trail  by  the  creek  a  bark 
answered  him.  Then  an  Airedale  came  racing  through  the 
sagebrush,  now  and  again  leaping  high  to  gain  a  view  of  his 

14 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

master  and  finally  breaking  out  upon  the  clear  ground  about 
the  ranch  bouse. 

"Mike,  you're  too  inquisitive  about  other  animals' 
dwellings,"  Lee  addressed  him  as  he  arrived,  wet  from  an 
immersion  in  the  creek  and  panting  from  his  run.  "Some 
day  a  rattler  in  a  hole  you're  digging  into  will  nip  you  on 
the  nose  and  you'll  wish  you'd  been  more  polite.  Come 
along  now  and  be  good." 

He  walked  with  Stevenson  back  to  the  house,  where 
leaving  the  dog  to  drop  in  the  shade  outside  they  entered. 
The  interior  was  cool  and  dim  after  the  hot,  glaring  sunshine; 
and  Bryant,  having  greeted  Mrs.  Stevenson,  sat  down 
gratefully  in  a  rocking-chair,  glad  to  avail  himself  of  the 
room's  comfort.  Crude  as  an  adobe  house  is  both  in  ap- 
pearance and  in  construction,  it  is  admirably  adapted  to  the 
climate  of  the  arid  Southwest;  its  flat  dirt  roof  and  thick 
walls  built  of  sun-baked  mud  bricks,  plastered  within  and 
smoothly  surfaced  without,  defying  alike  the  heat  of  mid- 
summer and  the  icy  blasts  of  winter  and  lasting  in  that  dry 
clime  half  a  century.  This  ranch  house  of  the  Stevensons', 
originally  built  by  some  Mexican,  as  Bryant  judged,  had 
been  standing  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  and  was  still  tight 
and  staunch. 

"Your  creek's  pretty  dry,  I  see,"  the  young  fellow  re- 
marked afteratime,  when  they  had  exchanged  news. 

"By  August  there  won't  be  any  water  in  it  at  all," 
Stevenson  said,  "except  a  little  that  always  runs  in  the 
canon.  I'll  have  to  haul  it  from  there  then.  You  see  now 
why  I  can't  keep  stock  here." 

His  wife  stopped  the  needle  with  which  she  mended  an 

15 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

apron  while  they  talked,  and  looked  out  of  a  window.  On 
her  face  was  the  same  tired,  anxious  expression  that  marked 
her  husband's  countenance. 

"I've  barely  kept  our  garden  alive,"  she  said,  "but  it 
won't  be  for  much  longer." 

"That's  too  bad,  Mrs.  Stevenson,"  Lee  Bryant  replied. 
"However,  one  can't  do  anything  without  water.  Still, 
your  sheep  are  doing  well,  I  suppose;  the  grass  is  good  on 
the  mountains  this  summer." 

An  answer  was  not  immediately  forthcoming  from  the 
rancher;  he  sat  staring  absently  at  the  backs  of  his 
roughened  hands,  now  and  again  rubbing  one  or  the  other, 
and  enveloped  in  a  gloom  that  Bryant  could  both  see 
and  feel.  Then  all  at  once  Stevenson  began  to  talk,  in  a 
voice  querulous  and  morose. 

"We're  going  to  quit  here,  sell  the  sheep,  and  go 
back  East.  I  was  swindled  when  I  bought  this  ranch,  and 
I  want  to  get  away  before  I  lose  my  last  cent.  Came  out  to 
this  country  five  years  ago  from  Illinois  with  forty  thousand 
dollars,  and  now  we're  going  back  with  what  I  can  sell  my  sheep 
for,  maybe  twenty-five  hundred  cash.  Menocal  robbed  me 
right  at  the  start,  selling  me  this  place  for  twenty-five  thousand 
— twenty  thousand  down  and  a  mortgage  for  the  remaining 
five  thousand — when  the  place  was  just  five  thousand  acres 
of  sagebrush,  with  no  more  water  than  runs  in  this  creek.  I 
was  a  tenderfoot  all  right!  The  land  agent  at  Kennard 
showed  it  to  me  in  June  when  the  Perro  was  booming,  and 
I  believed  him  when  he  said  it  ran  that  way  all  the  year 
around.  Look  at  it  now!  I  didn't  have  sense  enough  to 
inquire  and  learn  about  it,  being  in  a  hurry  to  get  into  the 

16 


THE    IRON    FURRO\\ 

sheep  business  and  thinking  I  should  be  rich  in  no  time. 
That  agent  sold  it  to  me  for  irrigated  land,  and  a  bargain 
at  five  dollars  an  acre.  MenocaJ,  who  owned  it  and  deeded 
it  to  me,  pretends  he  isn't  responsible  for  what  the  man  said. 
Five  dollars  an  acre!  It's  worth  about  fifty  cents  for  win- 
ter range,  and  no  more." 

"If  it  could  be  irrigated,  it  would  be  a  bargain  sure 
enough  at  five  dollars,"  Lee  stated.  "And  there's  another 
water  right  for  the  place  you  said  when  I  was  here  before." 

"Yes,  there  is — on  paper.  Water  was  appropriated  out 
of  the  Pinas  River,  but  that's  eight  miles  north  of  here,  and 
it  would  cost  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  if  not  more,  to 
build  a  dam  and  a  canal  along  the  mountain  side.  No,  sir; 
that  appropriation  was  just  some  more  of  Menocal's  tricky 
work!  He  jammed  it  through  the  land  office  thirty  years 
ago  and,  they  say,  never  did  any  more  to  comply  with  the 
law  requiring  delivery  of  the  water  on  this  ground  than  to 
have  a  man  drive  around  pouring  a  bucketful  out  of  a  bar- 
rel upon  each  quarter  section." 

"Some  pretty  shady  transactions  were  put  across  in  those 
early  days,"  Bryant  commented. 

"Well,  ain't  matters  just  as  bad  now?"  Stevenson  asked, 
quickly.  "He  still  has  the  appropriation,  or  rather  I'm 
supposed  to  have  it  with  this  ranch.  Because  Menocal  con- 
trols the  Mexican  vote  hereabouts,  which  is  about  all  the 
vote  there  is,  why,  nobody  has  ever  disturbed  him  about 
that  water  right.  And  he's  using  that  water,  belonging  to 
me,  to  irrigate  a  lot  of  bottom  farms  along  the  river,  for 
which  no  water  can  be  appropriated,  the  Pinas  not  carrying 
enough.  I  rode  over  one  day  and  looked  at  those  farms — 

17 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

all  grain  and  alfalfa.  Well,  he'll  get  this  ranch  back,  any- 
way. The  mortgage  he  holds  on  it  is  due  next  week  and  I 
can't  pay  it.  Wouldn't  even  if  I  had  the  money.  We're 
going  to  pull  up  stakes  and  leave." 

Bryant  silently  regarded  the  other's  haggard  face  and 
stooped  figure,  whose  expression  and  resigned  attitude  re- 
vealed clearly  Stevenson's  surrender.  He  was  a  man  dis- 
couraged, disheartened,  whipped. 

"What's  wrong  with  the  sheep?"  he  questioned,  at 
length. 

"Not  much  that  isn't  wrong.  When  I  started  five  years 
ago,  I  invested  in  three  thousand  head.  One  time  I  had 
them  increased  to  fifty-five  hundred — three  bands.  Thought 
I  was  doing  first  rate;  and  I  was  then.  But  everything  be- 
gan to  go  against  me.  It  seemed  as  if  I  always  got  the 
worst  herders;  and  not  having  any  water  to  raise  alfalfa  I 
had  to  buy  winter  feed,  which  was  expensive;  and  a  lot  of 
them  got  the  scab  and  died;  and  last  year  I  lost  nearly  all 
my  lambs  at  lambing  time,  the  band  being  caught  out  in  a 
storm  and  being  in  the  wrong  place.  Just  one  thing  after 
another,  to  break  my  back.  Had  trouble  about  the  range, 
too.  When  I  started  them  off  this  spring,  they  were  down 
to  seven  hundred;  and  I've  been  losing  some  right  along 
from  one  cause  or  another.  No  lambs,  either,  this  spring, 
except  dead  ones.  I  thought  I  could  hang  on  till  my  luck 
changed,  but  losing  a  hundred  head  two  weeks  ago  was  the 
last  straw.  I'm  done  now." 

"What  happened,  Stevenson?" 

"One  of  Menocal's  herders  mixed  his  flock  with  my  six 
hundred,  did  it  deliberately,  I'm  convinced;  there  were 

18 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

three  thousand  head  of  his.  Billy  was  tending  ours — and 
Billy  is  only  fourteen,  you  know.  I  had  come  down  here 
for  some  supplies  and  when  I  returned,  I  found  him  crying. 
The  Mexican  had  separated  the  sheep  and  we  were  a  hun- 
dred short,  gone  with  his,  and  he  would  pay  no  attention  to 
Billy,  swearing  he  had  only  his  own  band.  And  he  drove 
them  away.  I  went  to  Menocal,  who  was  very  polite,  but 
he  said  I  must  be  mistaken  as  his  herders  were  all  honest 
men;  and  I've  not  got  my  sheep  back,  and  I'm  not  likely  to. 
For  that  band  is  now  thirty  miles  away  somewhere.  No 
use  to  go  to  court — Menocal  owns  everything  and  every- 
body around  here.  So  I'm  quitting." 

"The  sheep  business  isn't  all  roses,  that's  certain,"  Lee 
Bryant  remarked.  "It's  hard  luck  that  your  band  ran 
down  just  when  the  price  of  mutton  and  wool  is  going  up. 
So  you're  letting  the  ranch  slide?  " 

"Yes,  I  can't  pay  the  mortage;  Menocal  would  foreclose 
at  once  if  I  tried  to  stay.  Last  time  I  was  in  town  he 
asked  me  about  paying  it  off  and  when  I  told  him  I 
shouldn't  be  able  to  do  that,  he  said  he'd  have  me  deed  it 
back  to  him  to  save  foreclosure  proceedings.  And  he  was 
smiling,  too.  He  knew  all  the  time  that  he'd  get  the  ranch 
back;  and  when  he  does,  he'll  sell  it  to  some  other  sucker. " 

"Both  of  us  have  wished  a  hundred  times  that  we'd 
never  sold  our  Illinois  farm  to  come  here,"  Mrs.  Stevenson 
said,  plaintively.  "I  don't  know  what  we'll  do  when  we 
go  back,  for  that  matter.  Just  rent  a  place,  I  guess.  Land 
is  so  high-priced  there  that  we'll  never  be  able  to  buy  a 
farm  again." 

"Renting  there  is  better  than  starving  here,"  her  husband 


TH;E  IRON  FURROW 

declared.  "We'll  have  a  better  home,  too.  When  we 
first  came  to  this  place,  we  planned  on  building  a  fine  house, 
but  I  never  had  the  money  loose,  and  we've  just  kept  on 
from  year  to  year  living  in  this  'dobe  hole.  Good  thing  I 
didn't  have  the  money,  however,  for  we'd  lose  the  house 
along  with  the  ranch  if  we  had  built.  Well,  we're  going 
back  East,  anyhow,  as  soon  as  I  sell  the  sheep.  Graham, 
who  has  the  big  ranch  on  Diamond  Creek,  south  of  where 
those  girls  are  homesteading,  is  coming  up  in  a  day  or  two 
to  look  at  them,  maybe  buy  them.  You  can  see  Graham's 
big  white  house  from  the  Kennard  trail." 

Bryant  nodded.  "I  know  the  place,  saw  it  when  pass- 
ing," said  he.  Then  he  went  on,  "When  I  was  at  the  ford 
watering  my  horse  before  coming  here,  an  auto  crossed  the 
creek.  In  the  rear  seat  were  a  fat  Mexican,  whom  I  took 
to  be  Menocal,  and  a  white  man  with  a  pointed  beard.  The 
latter  perhaps  was  Graham?  " 

"Yes,  that  must  have  been  him.  Which  way  were  they 
driving?" 

"South." 

"  Going  to  the  Graham  ranch,  I  s'pose." 

"There  was  a  slim  young  fellow  driving  the  car — some 
Mexican  blood  in  him,"  Lee  stated. 

"Menocal's  son,  Charlie,  a  half-breed  snippet  who  puts  on 
airs  because  his  father's  rich,"  Stevenson  said,  in  a  disgusted 
tone.  "A  white  woman  married  Menocal,  you  know." 

"In  the  front  seat  with  the  young  fellow  was  a  girl, 
rather  pretty,"  Bryant  appended. 

"That's  Louise,  I  imagine,"  Mrs.  Stevenson  said,  re- 
flectively. "Yes,  it  must  have  been  her.  She's  Mr. 

20 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Graham's  daughter.    A  nice  girl,  too.    That  Menocal  boy 
is  crazy  to  marry  her,  the  talk  is." 

"And  is  she  crazy  to  marry  him?"  Lee  inquired,  amused 
by  this  gossip. 

"Well,  not  exactly  crazy,  I'd  say;  I  don't  see  how  she 
could  be.  But  he'll  be  worth  a  lot  of  money  some  day,  and 
she  may  overlook  considerable  on  that  account.  Menocal's 
boy  has  been  to  college;  besides,  the  family  goes  every- 
where with  white  folks.  I  guess  a  Mexican  is  supposed  to 
be  really  white,  isn't  he?  " 

"Those  having  pure  Spanish  blood,"  the  engineer  ex- 
plained. "Nearly  all  the  ones  around  here  that  I've  seen 
have  more  Indian  in  them  than  anything  else,  however, 
with  a  dash  of  other  races  perhaps.  From  the  glimpse  I 
had  of  Menocal,  I'll  venture  to  say  he  has  Red  men  among 
his  ancestors." 

"Mexican  or  Indian  or  whatever  he  is,  he  can  squeeze 
money  out  of  nothing,  like  a  Jew,"  Stevenson  complained. 
"Look  how  much  he  has  made  out  of  this  ranch;  look  at 
what  he  has  made  out  of  me !  And  it's  just  that  way  with 
everything  he  holds.  The  Mexicans  all  around  this 
section  sell  him  their  stuff  cheap  and  take  what  he  pays, 
because  they  don't  know  any  better  and  because  he's  their 
leader.  He  has  the  big  store  at  Bartolo,  which  you've 
seen,  and  owns  the  bank  there,  and  has  any  number  of  farms 
up  and  down  the  Pinas  River,  and  runs  I  don't  know  how 
many  bands  of  sheep;  and  besides,  he  elects  the  county 
officers,  and  fixes  the  taxes  to  suit  himself,  and  recommends 
the  water  inspector  for  this  district,  and — and — well,  what 
chance  has  an  ordinary  man  to  get  ahead  here? ' ' 

21 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Lee  Bryant  let  a  pause  ensue.  He  rolled  a  cigarette  and 
struck  a  light  and  carefully  got  the  tobacco  to  burning. 

"You  say  you're  going  to  let  the  ranch  go  back  to  Meno- 
cal,"  he  stated,  abruptly.  "You've  made  up  your  mind 
that  you  won't  keep  it,  anyway.  All  right.  Now  I've  a 
proposition  to  make  you." 

Stevenson  looked  at  him  with  curiosity. 

"A  proposition?    What  is  it?  "  he  asked. 

"It's  this:  I've  a  farm  of  eighty  acres  in  Nebraska  that 
I'll  trade  you  for  it.  I  could  offer  you  less,  but  I  won't; 
you  have  an  equity  here  of  value,  and  I'm  not  the  kind  of 
man  to  beat  you  down  to  nothing.  If  we  deal,  you  shall 
have  something  in  return  for  your  interest.  This  eighty 
of  mine  is  worth  a  hundred  dollars  an  acre — eight  thousand; 
it's  mortgaged  for  five  thousand,  which  leaves  an  equity  of 
three  thousand;  on  it  are  good  buildings  and  it's  rented  un- 
til next  March.  You  could  then  take  possession.  It's  a 
good  farm,  and  with  the  money  you'll  have  from  the  sale  of 
your  sheep  you  can  make  a  good  start  on  the  place,  which 
is  in  the  corn  and  wheat  section.  My  equity  of  three 
thousand  isn't  worth,  to  be  sure,  anything  like  what  you 
paid  Menocal  for  this  ranch,  but  it's  something — and  all 
that  I  can  afford  to  give." 

The  rancher  stared  at  Lee  as  if  he  could  not  credit  his  ears. 

"Are  you  in  earnest?"  he  demanded,  at  last.  "Why 
I've  just  told  you  there's  no  water  here.  A  man  can't 
make  a  living  on  the  place,  and  the  mortgage  is  due  next 
week." 

"I'll  pay  off  the  mortgage;  I've  enough  money  saved  up 
to  do  that." 

22 


THE    IRON    FURROW 


"But,  man,  without  water " 

"Listen,  Stevenson,  I  know  exactly  what  I'm  about," 
the  engineer  interrupted.  "This  thing's  a  gamble  with  me, 
I  admit,  but  you  needn't  do  any  worrying  on  that  score. 
I'm  going  in  with  my  eyes  open;  I  know  the  risks  and  am 
willing  to  take  them.  What  about  my  offer?" 

Stevenson,  still  gazing  at  his  visitor  in  wonderment,  was  at 
a  loss;  he  rubbed  his  knuckles  doubtfully,  hitched  about 
on  his  chair  and  knit  his  brows,  perplexed,  hesitating,  as  was 
his  manner  when  presented  with  any  new  affair,  even  with 
one  palpably  to  his  advantage.  It  was  clear  that  in  this 
lack  of  quick  decision  lay  much  of  the  reason  for  his  failure. 

His  wife  exclaimed  in  appeal,  "Oh,  John,  if  Mr.  Bryant 
really  means  it,  why  don't  you  say  yes?  I  can't  understand 
why  he  makes  us  such  a  fine  offer,  but  he  is  making  it.  We 
can  start  again;  we'll  be  back  in  a  farming  country  like  what 
we're  used  to,  even  if  it  isn't  in  Illinois;  we'll  have  a  farm  of 
our  own,  a  home  of  our  own,  and  will  not  have  to  rent.  Oh, 
why  don't  you  say  yes?" 

The  rancher  looked  from  his  wife  to  Bryant  and  back 
again,  pursing  his  lips. 

"But  I  don't  understand  this,"  he  said. 

"You  heard  what  he  explained,"  she  replied,  anxiously. 
"He  expects  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  and  be  rid  of  Mr. 
Menocal.  Perhaps  he  knows  the  sheep  business  better  than 
you  do;  you  never  did  learn  it  well,  John,  and  you  ought 
never  to  have  stopped  farming.  You  were  a  good  farmer; 
you  will  be  again.  We  can  go  on  this  place  in  Nebraska  and 
raise  corn  and  wheat  and  hogs,  and  I'll  have  chickens  to  help 
clear  the  debt.  Why,  it's  a  chance  for  us  to  be  independent 

23 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

again,  and  have  a  home,  and  neighbours,  and  attend  church, 
and — and  be  happy,  John!" 

"That's  so,"  her  husband  agreed. 

"We  are  going  to  leave  here  anyway,"  she  continued  to 
urge.  "We  wouldn't  have  had  anything  but  the  money 
from  the  sheep,  but  now  you'll  be  getting  a  farm,  too.  I'd 
think  you'd  jump  at  Mr.  Bryant's  offer." 

"But  maybe,  after  all,  the  ranch  is  worth  more  than  I 
thought,"  Stevenson  speculated. 

His  wife  sank  back  in  her  seat,  picked  up  her  sewing,  and 
tried  to  resume  her  task,  but  her  fingers  trembled  and  her 
lashes  were  winking  fast.  Lee  gazed  at  her  sympathetic- 
ally. Then  he  lifted  his  hat  from  the  floor  and  stood  up. 

"Well,  there  are  other  places  I  can  trade  for,"  he  re- 
marked. "I  thought  I  was  doing  you  a  good  turn  in  pro- 
posing the  exchange,  especially  as  you're  about  to  lose  your 
place.  I  wouldn't  be  beating  you  out  of  anything,  certainly, 
and  as  your  wife  says,  you'd  really  be  getting  something  for 
nothing.  The  mortgage  is  due  next  week,  you  must  re- 
member." 

Stevenson's  mind,  however,  was  running  in  another  chan- 
nel. 

"I'll  tell  you  how  we  can  deal,"  he  said,  with  an  assump- 
tion of  shrewdness.  "You  pay  me  the  five  thousand  you 
plan  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  with,  and  get  Menocal  to  re- 
new the  loan.  Five  thousand — why,  my  equity  is  worth 
more  than  that!  Besides,  you've  some  scheme  for  making 
money  out  of  this  ranch." 

"What  if  I  have?" 

"That  makes  a  difference  when  it  comes  to  a  deal." 

9 

24 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Not  with  me,"  the  engineer  stated,  curtly.  "If  that's 
your  attitude,  we'll  drop  the  matter.  Probably  you  your- 
self can  arrange  an  extension  of  the  mortgage  or  a  renewal, 
if  you're  minded  to  remain." 

"You  know,  John,  that  you  can't;  Mr.  Menocal  has  al- 
ready refused,"  Mrs.  Stevenson  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"I  ought  to  have  cash  in  addition  to  your  farm,"  her  hus- 
band insisted. 

"You  get  none,"  Lee  replied.  "Well,  this  trade  is  what 
I  came  to  see  you  about.  From  the  way  you  talked  when 
I  was  here  last  I  supposed  you  might  consider  my  offer 
favourably,  but  I  guess  we  can't  do  business.  I'll  ride  on  to 
Bartolo." 

At  this  statement  Mrs.  Stevenson  wiped  her  eyes,  rose 
and  went  into  the  inner  room,  closing  the  door  after  her. 
The  engineer  moved  as  if  to  depart. 

"Now,  wait  a  minute,"  Stevenson  exclaimed. 

"Well?" 

"I'll  take — let  me  figure  a  minute." 

Bryant  tossed  his  hat  on  the  table  in  disgust  and  relighted 
his  cigarette. 

"Stevenson,  listen,"  he  began.  "You're  an  older  man 
than  I  am,  but  just  the  same  I'm  going  to  say  a  few  things 
that  you  need  to  hear.  I  couldn't  say  them  and  wouldn't 
say  them  before  your  wife,  but  now  I'm  going  to  turn  loose. 
You  can  do  as  you  damn  please  about  trading,  take  my  offer 
or  leave  it;  if  you  refuse,  though,  you'll  lose  both  ranch  and 
farm.  The  trouble  with  you  is  that  you  can't  see  the  differ- 
ence between  a  good  proposition  and  a  bad  one.  That's 
why  you  bought  this  ranch  on  say-so.  That's  why  now 

25 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

you're  turning  down  my  offer.  You  either  jump  without 
first  looking,  or  you  wait  until  it's  too  late.  You  don't 
pay  attention  strictly  to  what's  immediately  under  your 
hand,  but  waste  your  energy  wondering  if  you  can't  get 
rich  from  something  out  of  your  reach.  That's  what  has 
been  the  trouble  with  you  in  the  sheep  business,  I  imagine. 
Here  when  I  offer  you  a  farm  for  a  ranch  that's  slipping 
through  your  fingers,  you  at  once  get  greedy.  Most  of  the 
time  you  don't  know  your  own  mind;  you  hesitate  and 
speculate  and  vacillate  and  worry.  Why,  you  deserve  to 
lose  your  ranch  and  your  sheep  and  everything  else.  And 
your  wife  suffers  for  your  faults!  You're  a  failure,  and 
you've  dragged  her  down  with  you.  If  you're  not  a  failure, 
and  a  fool,  too,  go  bring  her  back  into  this  room  and  tell  her 
you're  going  to  make  this  trade,  so  you  two  will  have  a  farm 
and  the  home  she  wants  and  so  her  mind  will  be  easy  once 
more.  You've  been  thinking  of  only  yourself  long  enough; 
now  begin  to  think  of  her  comfort  and  happiness." 

Stevenson  came  angrily  to  his  feet. 

"No  man  ever  talked  to  me  like  that  before,  I'll  have  you 
know!"  he  cried. 

The  engineer  kept  his  place,  with  no  change  of  coun- 
tenance. 

"Well,  one  has  talked  to  you  like  that  now  and  I'm  the 
man,"  he  said.  "And  I  don't  retract  a  word.  It's  the 
truth  straight  from  the  shoulder.  What  are  you  going  to  do 
about  it?  Why,  nothing,  just  nothing.  Because  I've 
talked  cold,  hard  facts,  and  you  know  it." 

The  momentary  fire  died  from  Stevenson's  eyes.  He 
shuffled  his  feet  for  a  little,  looked  about  the  room  with  the 

26 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

worried  aspect  he  usually  showed,  brushed  his  lips  with  the 
back  of  his  hand. 

"You're  pretty  rough —     "  he  began. 

"Don't  stand  there  talking;  go  get  your  wife,"  Bryant 
said,  sharply. 

Stevenson  turned  and  walked  slowly  to  the  closed  door. 
He  cleared  his  throat,  stared  at  the  panels  for  a  moment,  and 
at  last  pushed  it  open. 

"Come  out,  Sarah,  we're  going  to  trade,"  he  announced. 

The  woman  came  forth.  About  her  eyes  was  a  slight 
redness,  but  on  her  lips  there  was  a  tremulous  smile. 

"I'm  glad,"  she  said,  "I'm  glad,  John." 

"Yes,  I  decided  it  was  a  good  trade  to  make,"  her  husband 
assured  her.  "  No  need  to  think  it  over  longer." 

They  came  to  where  Bryant  stood,  unconcealed  pleasure 
showing  on  Mrs.  Stevenson's  face. 

"You  may  like  to  see  these  kodak  pictures  of  the  farm  and 
its  house,"  the  young  man  said,  producing  an  envelope  from 
a  pocket.  "Take  a  chair  here  by  the  window,  Mrs.  Steven- 
son, where  you'll  have  the  light.  See,  this  one  shows  the 
house,  with  the  trees  and  lilac  bushes  in  front,  and  gives 
you  a  glimpse  of  the  flower  garden.  Pretty,  don't  you 
think?" 

She  readjusted  her  spectacles.  After  a  time  she  gazed 
from  the  pictures  through  the  window  at  the  stretch  of  sage- 
brush. 

"And  I'll  have  neighbours,  too,"  she  said,  in  an  unsteady 
voice.  ' '  The  loneliness  here  was  killing  me. ' ' 

Stevenson  considered  the  backs  of  his  hands  in  awkward 
silence. 

27 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Neighbours,  lots  of  them,"  Bryant  affirmed. 

"I  kind  of  pity  you  having  to  stay,"  she  said,  looking  up 
at  him  with  a  smile. 

The  engineer  laughed. 

"Why,  this  country  suits  me  right  down  to  the  ground," 
he  replied.  "I've  been  in  the  West  ten  years,  wouldn't 
live  anywhere  else.  And  I  don't  expect  to  be  lonely;  Meno- 
cal  will  probably  attend  to  that.  Besides,  there  are  two 
good-looking  young  ladies  just  south  of  here,  on  Santa 
Creek." 

"That's  so,"  she  said,  laughing  also. 

"First  thing  we  hear,  you'll  be  married,"  Stevenson  re- 
marked, with  a  quick  grin. 

"Oh,  I'm  safe — there  are  two  of  them,"  Bryant  returned, 
clapping  the  rancher  on  the  shoulder. 


28 


CHAPTER  III 

The  town  of  Bartolo  slumbered  in  the  July  sunshine. 
Nothing  stirred  on  its  one  long  street,  lined  with  scarcely  a 
break  on  either  side  by  mud-plastered  houses  that  made  a 
continuous  brown  wall,  marked  at  intervals  by  a  door  or 
pierced  by  a  window;  nothing  stirred,  neither  in  front  of 
Menocal's  large  frame  store  at  the  upper  end  of  it,  with  the 
little  bank  adjoining,  nor  before  the  small  courthouse 
grounds  across  the  way,  where  the  huge  old  cottonwoods 
spread  their  shade,  nor  along  the  entire  length  of  the  beaten 
street  down  to  Gomez's  blacksmith  shop  and  Martinez's  sa- 
loon across  from  each  other  at  the  lower  end;  nothing,  not 
even  the  pair  of  burros  drowsing  in  the  shade  of  the  wall,  or 
the  dogs  lying  before  doors,  or  the  goats  a-kneel  by  the  sa- 
loon, or  the  fowls  nested  down  in  the  dust.  Only  the  Pinas 
River,  issuing  from  the  black  canon  a  mile  or  so  above,  was 
in  motion;  and,  indeed,  it  appeared  to  partake  of  the  general 
somnolence,  barely  rippling  along  its  gravelly  bed,  shallow 
and  shrunken,  and  giving  forth  but  an  indolent  glitter  as 
it  flowed  past  the  town.  The  day  was  hot  and  it  was  the 
hour  of  the  siesta,  therefore  everything  slept — everything, 
man,  beast  and  fowl,  from  Menocal,  who  was  snoring  in  his 
hammock  on  the  vine-clad  veranda  of  his  big  stuccoed  house 
just  beyond  the  store  at  the  head  of  the  street,  to  the  goats 
at  the  foot  of  it  by  the  silent  saloon. 

29 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Bryant,  descending  from  the  mesa  into  the  river  bottom 
and  riding  into  the  street,  had  he  not  known  otherwise, 
might  have  supposed  the  population  vanished  in  a  body. 
But  he  was  aware  that  it  only  slept;  and  he  had  no  considera- 
tion for  a  siesta  that  retarded  his  affairs.  He  dismounted 
before  the  courthouse  and  entered  the  building,  whose 
corridor  and  chambers  appeared  as  silent,  as  lifeless,  as  for- 
saken as  the  street  itself.  Coming  into  the  Recorder's  office, 
he  halted  for  a  look  about,  then  pushed  through  the  wicket 
of  the  counter  and  stepped  into  an  inner  room,  where  he 
stirred  by  a  thumb  in  the  ribs  a  thin,  dusky-skinned  youth 
reclining  in  a  swivel  chair  with  feet  in  repose  on  a  window- 
sill,  who  slept  with  head  fallen  back,  arms  hanging,  and 
mouth  open. 

"Come,  amigo,  your  dinner's  settled  by  this  time,"  the 
engineer  stated.  "  Grab  a  pen  and  record  this  deed." 

The  clerk  sleepily  shifted  his  feet  into  a  more  comfortable 
position. 

"We're  behind  in  our  work,"  said  he.  "Just  leave  your 
deed,  and  the  fee,  and  we'll  get  around  to  it  in  a  few  days." 

"  So  you're  too  busy  now,  eh?  " 

"Yes.  We've  had  a  good  many  papers  to  record  this 
month." 

"Where's  the  Recorder?" 

"Not  back  from  dinner  yet,"  was  the  answer. 

The  speaker  once  again  prepared  to  rest.  From  the  outer 
office  the  slow  ticking  of  a  clock  sounded  with  lulling  effect, 
while  the  grassy  yard  beyond  the  window,  shaded  by  the 
boughs  of  the  cottonwoods,  diffused  peace  and  drowsiness. 
The  clerk  closed  his  eyes. 

30 


THE    IRON    FlTRROW 

"Just  leave  the  deed  and  fee  on  the  desk  here,"  he  mur- 
mured. 

"And  tip-toe  out,  too,  I  suppose." 

"If  you  feel  like  it,"  the  young  Mexican  remarked,  with  a 
faint  insolence  in  his  voice,  the  insolence  of  a  subordinate 
who  believes  himself  protected  by  his  place. 

Bryant's  hand  shot  swiftly  out  to  the  speaker's  shoulder. 
With  a  snap  that  brought  him  up  standing  the  clerk  was 
jerked  from  his  seat,  and  before  his  startled  wits  gathered 
what  was  happening  he  was  propelled  into  the  outer  office. 

"Record  this  deed,  you  forty-dollar-a-month  penpusher, 
before  I  grow  peevish  and  rearrange  your  face,"  Bryant 
ordered,  with  his  fingers  tightening  their  grasp  on  the 
youth's  collar.  "You're  receiving  your  pay  from  the 
county,  and  are  presumed  to  give  value  received.  Anyway, 
value  received  is  what  I'm  going  to  have  now." 

"Let  go  my  neck!" 

"Let  go  nothing.  When  I  see  you  settle  down  to  this  big 
book,  then  I  let  go.  No  'manana'  with  me,  boy;  right  here 
and  now  you're  going  to  give  me  an  exhibition  of  rapid  pen- 
manship. Savey?  Take  up  your  pen;  that's  the  stuff. 
Now  dip  deep  in  the  ink  and  draw  a  full  breath  and  go 
to  it." 

Bryant  released  his  hold  on  the  cowed  clerk,  but  remained 
by  his  side,  where  his  presence  exerted  an  amazingly  en- 
ergizing effect  upon  the  scribe.  The  pen  scratched  in- 
dustriously to  and  fro  across  the  page,  over  which  the  youth 
humped  himself  as  if  enamoured  of  the  tome,  only  at  inter- 
vals risking  a  glance  at  the  lean-faced,  vigilant  American. 
When  he  had  finished  the  transcription,  stamped  the  deed 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

and  closed  the  book,  Bryant  handed  him  the  amount  of  the 
fee. 

"Thank  you,"  the  clerk  said,  with  an  excess  of  politeness. 

He  was  still  nervous.  He  furtively  observed  his  visitor 
stowing  the  deed  in  a  pocket,  as  if  expecting  Bryant  to 
initiate  some  new  violence,  and  resolved  on  flight  if  he 
should. 

"There,  my  friend,  that's  all  you  can  do  for  me  just  now," 
the  engineer  remarked.  "But  I  shall  return  soon,  so  keep 
awake  and  ready.  When  you  see  me  entering,  advance  pronto. 
If  anything  annoys  me,  it's  being  kept  waiting  by  a  Mexican 
boy-clerk.  Do  you  get  that  clearly?" 

"Si,  senor,"  the  other  replied,  unconsciously  lapsing  into 
his  native  tongue. 

"Muy  bueno — and  bear  it  in  mind.  Now  I  advise  you 
to  get  to  work  on  the  documents  you've  allowed  to  accumu- 
late; it's  half -past  two  and  you've  had  enough  of  a  siesta  for 
one  noon."  With  which  Bryant  took  his  departure. 

Outside  he  led  his  horse  across  the  street  to  the  frame 
store.  Beside  the  latter  stood  Menocal's  house,  with  its 
smooth  green  lawn  and  its  beds  of  poppies,  its  trees,  its 
fence  massed  with  sweet  peas,  and  its  vine-covered  veranda, 
where  the  engineer  had  a  glimpse  of  a  corpulent  figure  in  a 
hammock.  The  only  sound  from  the  place  was  the  musical 
gurgle  of  water  in  a  little  irrigation  ditch  bordering  the  lawn. 

Inside  the  long  store  Bryant  aroused  the  only  man  in 
sight,  a  Mexican  who  slept  on  the  counter  with  his  head 
pillowed  on  a  pile  of  overalls. 

"  Go  tell  Menocal  there's  a  man  here  to  see  him  on  busi- 
ness," Lee  said. 

32 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

The  awakened  sleeper  slid  off  his  perch,  rubbed  his  eyes, 
yawned,  stretched  himself,  and  then  shook  his  head  with 
great  gravity. 

"Mr.  Menocal  takes  his  siesta  till  three  o'clock;  you  can 
see  him  at  that  time,"  he  said,  in  English. 

" I'll  see  him  now." 

"Impossible!  He  is  very  angry  when  awakened  for  a 
small  matter." 

Bryant  went  a  step  nearer  to  the  speaker. 

"Where  do  you  get  the  authority  to  decide  that  my 
business  is  a  small  matter?"  he  demanded,  with  a  menace 
of  manner  that  caused  the  other  to  retreat  in  haste.  "Go 
bring  him  and  make  me  no  more  trouble." 

The  man  went.  Bryant  lighted  a  cigarette  and  fell  to 
surveying  the  store's  merchandise.  Several  minutes  passed 
before  a  murmur  of  voices  apprised  him  of  the  coming  of  the 
men.  Menocal  entered  the  side  door  first,  approaching 
heavily  and  sleepily  the  spot  where  the  engineer  waited. 
He  had  not  put  on  coat  or  collar;  his  short  figure  appeared 
more  than  ever  obese;  his  sweeping  white  moustache  divided 
his  plump,  shiny  brown  face;  and  his  air  was  that  of  one  who 
must  put  up  with  vexatious  interruptions  because  of  the 
important  position  he  filled. 

"You  wish  to  speak  with  me?"  he  asked,  shortly. 

"That's  why  I'm  here,"  Bryant  returned. 

Menocal  gazed  at  him  owlishly  for  a  time. 

"You're  the  man  who  threw  my  son's  money  back  at  the 
ford  day  before  yesterday,  aren't  you?"  he  questioned. 

"The  same." 

"Why  did  you  throw  it  back?" 

33 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Why  did  he  throw  it  at  me  in  the  first  place?  You 
should  train  him  to  use  better  judgment.  You  yourself 
wouldn't  have  done  it." 

"No,"  Menocal  said.  Then,  as  if  the  subject  were  dis- 
missed, he  asked,  "What  do  you  wish  to  see  me  about?" 

"About  the  mortgage  on  the  Stevenson  place;  I've  bought 
the  ranch.  Stevenson  moves  off  in  a  few  days." 

Menocal's  brows  lifted  and  remained  so,  as  if  fixed  in 
their  new  elevation.  He  slowly  rubbed  the  end  of  his  nose 
with  his  forefinger.  The  sleepiness  had  wholly  vanished 
from  his  countenance. 

"Come  into  the  bank,"  he  said,  finally;  and  moved  to- 
ward the  front  door. 

The  engineer  accompanied  him.  In  a  space  railed  off 
from  the  cashier's  grille  in  the  little  building  next  door  they 
sat  down.  The  teller  was  visible  in  the  cage,  where  now 
he  appeared  very  busy  though  he  had  undoubtedly  been 
drowsing  when  they  entered. 

"So  you've  bought  the  Stevenson  ranch,"  Menocal  said. 

"Yes.    I've  just  had  the  deed  recorded." 

"The  mortgage  is  due  in  a  few  days;  I  told  him  it 
wouldn't  be  renewed  by  me." 

"Perhaps  now  that  I  have  the  place — 

"No;  I've  carried  that  loan  long  enough.  If  it  isn't  paid 
when  due,  I'll  start  foreclosure  proceedings  immediately." 

Bryant  nodded. 

"Well,  I  merely  asked  out  of  curiosity,"  said  he.  "It's 
your  right  to  demand  payment — and  I'm  on  hand  with 
the  money.  Make  out  a  release  so  that  I  can  clear  the 
record.  Here's  a  Denver  draft  for  six  thousand  dollars— 

34 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

I  figure  principal  and  interest  at  five  thousand  four  hundred 
and  you  can  have  the  balance  placed  to  my  credit  in  the 
bank.  I  shouldn't  continue  the  loan  at  its  present  rate  of 
interest  in  any  case ;  eight  per  cent,  is  too  much  for  money. 
Besides,  I  want  the  ranch  clear  of  incumbrance." 

With  an  expressionless  face  Menocal  gazed  at  the  draft, 
turned  it  over,  examined  the  back,  then  at  last  laid  it  down 
on  his  desk. 

"Isidro,"  he  called  to  the  teller,  "make  out  a  mortgage 
release  for  the  Stevenson  place.  Copy  the  description 
from  the  mortgage  in  my  file  in  the  vault.  Afterward 
credit  six  hundred  dollars  to What  is  your  name?  " 

" Lee  Bryant." 

"Six  hundred  dollars  to  Lee  Bryant,  Isidro.  Mr. 
Bryant  will  give  you  his  signature."  Again  facing  his 
visitor,  he  said,  "Do  you  know  that  that  ranch  has  no  water 
to  speak  of?  I'm  afraid  you  may  not  find  the  property 
what  you  expect." 

"It  has  a  good  appropriation  from  the  Pinas  River  here." 

"Ah,  but  it  can't  be  used,"  Menocal  exclaimed,  with  a 
bland  smile. 

"I  propose  to  use  it." 

"What!" 

Bryant  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  amazed  banker's  orbs. 

"Didn't  I  speak  clearly?"  he  inquired.  "I  own  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  second  feet  of  water  in  this  river 
and  it's  my  intention  to  apply  it.  I'm  going  to  make  a 
real  ranch  down  there." 

A  shadow  seemed  to  settle  on  Menocal's  face,  leaving  it 
altered,  less  placid,  more  purposeful. 

35 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Considerable  capital  will  be  required  to  build  a  canal 
there,"  he  remarked.  "You're  certainly  not  going  into 
this  thing  on  your  own  account,  are  you?  Who  is  putting 
up  the  money?  Eastern  people?  " 

Bryant  smiled,  but  made  no  answer.  His  smile  and  his 
silence  provoked  an  angry  gleam  from  the  banker's  eyes. 

"Well,  it  doesn't  matter,"  Menocal  continued.  "But 
you're  going  to  discover  that  you  haven't  this  water  right, 
after  all." 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"Because  it  was  never  used,  because  no  real  canal  was 
ever  built,  only  a  little  ditch  that  doesn't  exist  now.  The 
right  will  be  cancelled,  and  the  water  will  be  reappropriated 
for  lands  along  the  river." 

"For  farms  on  which  you're  now  using  it,  you  mean?" 

"I'm  not  saying  where." 

Bryant  leaned  forward  and  tapped  the  banker's  desk 
with  a  finger-tip. 

"Mr.  Menocal,  don't  try  to  start  any  trouble  with  me," 
he  said,  with  jaw  a  little  outthrust. 

"Diosf    You  dare  talk  that  way  to  me?" 

"I  repeat  it,  don't  attempt  to  keep  something  that 
doesn't  belong  to  you.  You  may  want  to — but  don't  try  it. 
I  know  all  about  the  water  appropriation  for  the  ranch  I've 
bought;  all  about  your  sworn  affidavit  filed  thirty  years  ago, 
with  an  accompanying  map,  certifying  that  a  canal  was  built 
and  water  delivered  to  the  land.  It's  a  matter  of  record. 
Now  you  seek  to  reappropriate  this  water,  or  to  have  the 
right  cancelled,  and  see  where  you  wind  up.  Thirty  years 
ago  men  winked  at  false  affidavits,  but  it's  different  to-day." 

36 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

The  Mexican's  white  moustache  drew  up  tight  under  his 
thick  nose,  disclosing  his  teeth  in  a  snarl. 

"You  threaten  me — me!" 

"I'm  not  threatening,  only  warning  you.  Or  if  you  wish 
a  still  milder  word,  let  me  say  advising,"  Bryant  rejoined. 

The  banker's  eyes,  however,  continued  to  flash  at  the 
engineer,  as  if  alive  in  their  sockets  and  hunting  a  mark  to 
strike. 

"You  accuse  me  of  dishonour!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  don't 
know  why  I  should  pay  attention  to  your  charge,  which  is 
false.  A  ditch  was  built  to  the  ranch " 

"Mighty  small  one,  then.    No  trace  of  it  remains."    . 

"One  was  built,  one  was  built!" 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Menocal,  grant  that  it  was.  It  but 
strengthens  my  position.  But  let  us  pass  to  recent  times; 
five  years  ago  you  passed  title  to  Stevenson  with  the  water 
right  as  a  reality  when  you  sold  him  the  ranch;  your  son  is 
water  inspector  for  this  district,  or  was  until  a  year  ago, 
anyway,  making  reports  to  the  state.  Did  he  say  anything 
in  them  about  this  canal  or  water  right  having  ceased  to 
exist?  No." 

"His  reports  were  largely  routine,"  the  other  stated,  re- 
gaining his  composure. 

"  Still  they  were  official.  I'm  simply  pointing  out  to  you, 
Mr.  Menocal,  why  it  will  be  unwise  for  you  to  endeavour  to 
have  this  water  appropriation  cancelled.  You  sold  it  to 
Stevenson  as  a  live  right — the  deed  proves  that;  and  now 
that  I  have  the  property  I  shall  make  it  such  in  fact.  You've 
been  using  the  water  for  other  land,  which  possibly  will 
suffer  afterward,  but  that  doesn't  affect  the  case  in  the 

37 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

least.  That  water  is  a  valuable  property;  when  it's  de- 
livered on  my  ranch,  the  land  will  be  worth  fifty  dollars  an 
acre.  You  may  have  calculated  that  no  one  who  got  hold 
of  the  Perro  Creek  ranch  ever  would  or  could  use  the  water, 
but  in  that  you  were  in  error:  I  can  and  will  use  it,  and 
you  must  understand  that  fact." 

Menocal  fell  into  consideration.  He  folded  his  hands 
across  his  stomach  and  remained  thus,  pondering,  occasion- 
ally lifting  his  lids  for  a  scrutiny  of  Bryant's  face. 

"I'll  give  you  ten  thousand  cash  for  the  place  as  it  stands 
and  hand  you  my  check  now,"  he  said,  at  length. 

"Not  to-day,  thank  you,"  the  engineer  replied. 

"What  is  your  price?" 

"The  ranch  isn't  for  sale.  It'll  be  worth  a  quarter  of  a 
million  when  it's  watered.  No,  it's  not  on  the  market  at 
present." 

A  deep  sigh  issued  from  the  banker's  lips;  he  blinked 
slowly  several  times  before  speaking,  with  a  resigned  coun- 
tenance. 

"I  see  you've  some  capitalists  behind  you,"  said  he,  "for 
it  will  take  money  to  build  a  dam  and  a  canal.  If  they  saw 
a  reasonable  profit  without  the  trouble  of  construction,  no 
doubt  they  would  be  willing  to  sell." 

"Put  your  mind  at  rest,  Mr.  Menocal;  you  have  only  me 
to  deal  with;  there  are  no  capitalists  running  this  show  yet. 
But  the  water  system  will  be  built,  never  fear." 

Menocal's  eyebrows  went  up.  "Ah,  so?"  he  asked, 
softly. 

Then  his  face  smoothed  itself  out;  and  Bryant  realized 
that  he  had  been  led  into  a  betrayal  of  importance. 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"You  would  do  well  to  name  a  price,  Mr.  Bryant." 

"No;  I  propose  to  develop  the  ranch,"  the  engineer  an- 
swered, curtly.  "Is  the  release  made  out?  If  it  is,  I'll  be 
on  my  way." 

"It's  too  bad  you  refuse,  too  bad,"  Menocal  said,  with  a 
lugubrious  shake  of  his  head. 

He  called  Isidro.  The  clerk  placed  a  card  before  Bryant 
for  his  signature  and  gave  him  a  check  book.  Then  he  laid 
the  mortgage  release  in  front  of  Menocal,  who  signed  and 
passed  it  to  the  engineer. 

"You'll  find  it  correct,"  the  Mexican  stated.  "Isidro  is 
a  notary  and  has  filled  out  the  acknowledgment." 

Nevertheless,  the  visitor  took  care  to  read  the  paper  and 
compare  it  with  his  deed  before  he  rose. 

"Well,  that  ends  my  business  for  the  afternoon,"  said 
he,  "and  I'll  take  no  more  of  your  time.  You  understand 
where  I  stand,  Mr.  Menocal." 

The  latter  gave  a  number  of  slow  nods  saying,  "I  under- 
stand, I  understand.  Good  day,  Mr.  Bryant.  And  re- 
member that  you  have  an  account  with  us  and  that  the  bank 
will  be  pleased  to  render  you  any  service  possible." 

Sleepily  the  banker,  watching  through  the  bank  window, 
saw  the  young  man  lead  his  horse  across  the  street  and  once 
more  disappear  within  the  courthouse.  Then  for  some 
minutes  he  continued  in  somnolent  contemplation  of  the 
courthouse  front.  At  last  he  called : 

"Isidro,  Isidro!  Go  find  Joe  Garcia  and  tell  him  I  wish 
to  speak  with  him  in  half  an  hour  in  my  garden.  Look  for 
him  at  home  and  in  the  saloon,  but  find  him  wherever  he  is. 
That  man  who  just  went  out  now,  Isidro, " 

39 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Yes,"  answered  Isidro. 

"He's  one  of  those  hard,  obstinate  Americans,  Isidro— 
and  his  eyes,  they  are  bad  eyes,  I  don't  like  them." 

"Yes,"  Isidro  concurred,  who  had  not  noticed  the  eves  at 
all. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Charlie  Menocal,  who  after  his  sleep  had  read  a  few 
chapters  *in  a  novel,  went  out  of  the  shaded  room  where  he 
had  reposed  and  into  the  garden.  There  he  discovered  his 
father  in  talk  with  Joe  Garcia. 

"What's  going  on?"  he  exclaimed.  "Lost  a  horse,  or  a 
wife  or  something,  Joe?  " 

"No,  Charlie;  this  is  business,"  Garcia  said,  with  a  grin. 

Menocal  continued  to  give  his  instructions  to  the  latter. 
They  had  to  do  with  bringing  a  few  hundred  sheep  from  one 
of  the  bands  feeding  in  the  hills.  They  were  to  be  driven 
down  on  the  mesa  to  graze,  and  kept  moving  about  near  the 
Stevenson  ranch  house;  Garcia  was  to  observe  what  the 
young  man  there  did,  all  he  did,  whom  he  saw,  and  as  far  as 
possible  where  he  went.  Particularly  was  he  to  note  if 
surveyors  came  and  set  to  work  anywhere.  If  the  young 
man  appeared  to  be  engaged  at  any  task  on  the  mountain 
side,  Joe  was  to  approach  with  his  sheep.  And  he  was  to 
report  everything  he  learned. 

Charlie's  attention  became  more  lively  as  he  listened  to 
his  father's  directions  to  the  man,  and  when  Garcia  had 
departed  he  asked,  "Who  are  you  after?  Who's  this 
young  fellow  you  speak  of  as  being  at  the  Perro  Creek 
ranch?  Didn't  Stevenson  deed  the  place  back?  " 

Menocal  senior  twisted  an  end  of  his  flaring  moustache. 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"May  a  thousand  damnations  fall  on  him!  No,  he 
didn't,"  he  responded,  wrathfully. 

"But  that  only  means  you'll  have  to  foreclose  the  mort- 
gage. It  will  take  longer,  that's  all." 

Charlie  was  vice-president  of  his  father's  bank — his  name 
was  so  printed  on  the  stationery,  at  least — and  was  familiar 
with  his  parent's  affairs,  though  he  was  averse  to  anything 
like  industry.  He  much  preferred  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  to 
work,  and  his  automobile  to  the  grille  of  the  bank.  He  was 
accurately  aware,  too,  of  his  father's  weakness  for  him,  an 
only  child,  and  of  his  father's  inclination  to  indulge  his 
desires;  and  shrewdly  played  upon  the  fact.  Nevertheless, 
in  matters  of  business  he  possessed  a  certain  sharpness. 

"Stevenson  sold  the  ranch  to  this  young  man  Bryant, 
who  just  now  paid  off  the  mortgage,"  Menocal  explained. 

"  Then  he  was  stung,"  Charlie  averred. 

"Wait,  you  don't  know  all,  my  son.  He  plans  to  build  a 
dam  and  a  canal  and  use  that  old  water  right  out  of  the 
Pinas,  taking  the  water  with  which  we  irrigate  the  farm* 
down  at  Rosita.  It  will  leave  them  dry;  the  alfalfa  will  die; 
no  more  grain  or  peas  or  beans  will  be  raised  on  them;  they 
won't  have  even  good  pasturage;  they  will  go  back  to  sage- 
brush and  cactus — all  those  farms,  all  those  beautiful 
ranches!  Altogether  four  or  five  thousand  acres!  They 
are  worth  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  now — to-morrow 
worth  nothing!  Half  my  winter  hay  comes  from  them; 
half  my  peas  for  fattening  lambs.  I  shall  have  to  sell  part 
of  my  sheep.  I'm  a  millionaire  now,  but  I'll  be  reduced,  I'll 
be  less  than  a  millionaire,  and  so  almost  poor  again.  It's 
very  bad;  it  mustn't  be;  I  must  stop  him  using  the  water." 

42 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Even  Charlie  became  solemn  at  the  prospect  of  losing 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars  and  being  less  than  a 
millionaire. 

"The  right  hasn't  been  used;  we'll  have  it  cancelled,"  he 
said,  with  sudden  confidence. 

"He  refused  to  sell  the  place  to  me  for  ten  thousand 
dollars  cash,"  the  father  stated.  "He's  no  fool — and  he's  a 
bad  customer,  Charlie;  he  said  he  would  send  me  to  prison 
for  perjury  if  I  tried  to  cancel  the  right." 

"Perjury,  pouf!"   Charlie  sneered. 

"He  couldn't  send  me  to  prison,  of  course,  for  I  have  too 
much  money,  but  he  might  make  it  unpleasant  for  me,  very 
"Unpleasant.  Politics  are  to  be  considered;  I  mustn't  get  a 
bad  name  in  the  party  and  in  the  state.  I  must  be  careful. 
The  records  show  that  the  ranch  has  had  the  water,  and 
while  in  my  possession.  As  he  says,  that  would  be  difficult 
for  me  to  explain  if  I  entered  court  against  him.  The  mat- 
ter mustn't  get  into  court  or  into  the  land  office.  Later  we 
can  have  the  water  right  cancelled  and  reappropriated — 
later,  when  he  has  gone  away,  when  no  dust  can  be  raised 
about  it." 

"Is  he  going  away?" 

"Don't  be  stupid,  Charlie.  He  must  go  away;  that  is 
necessary:  I'm  considering  plans.  He  must  be  pursuaded — 
or " 

"Or  forced,"  said  his  son,  with  reckless  bright  eyes. 

"Men  generally  depart  from  a  locality  when  public 
opinion  is  brought  to  bear  on  them,"  the  elder  remarked. 
*He  can  be  made  unpopular  until  he  desires  to  leave." 

"We'll  run  him  out,  just  leave  that  part  to  me." 

43 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"  Charlie,  nothing  rash  must  be  done,  remember  that,  and 
nothing  illegal.  I  shall  think  of  some  plan  soon." 

"Nothing  rash,  but  nothing  uncertain,  father.  Two 
hundred  thousand  is  a  lot  of  money.  I,  too,  shall  plan." 

The  prospect  of  ousting  an  intruder  who  had  challenged 
his  family's  right  to  control  what  it  wished  here,  who  in- 
deed had  the  audacity  to  attempt  to  robe  the  effort  under  a 
claim  of  legality,  appealed  to  young  Menocal  as  an  under- 
taking most  attractive.  The  fact  that  all  the  advantage 
was  on  his  side,  of  influence,  of  wealth,  of  race,  of  power 
that  might  be  exerted  through  ignorant  Mexicans  in  a 
hundred  subtle  and  vindictive  ways,  made  the  enterprise  all 
the  more  alluring.  The  Indian  strain  in  his  blood — a  strain 
which  accounts  for  much  that  sets  American  and  Mexican 
apart,  unconsciously  in  his  case  gave  a  tinge  of  cruelty  to  his 
anticipation.  Aspiring  himself  to  pass  as  an  American,  it 
never  failed  to  please  him  when  he  could  slight  or  humiliate 
an  American;  and  he  lacked  his  father's  restraint  of  im- 
pulses, as  he  came  short  of  his  sagacity  and  perseverance. 
Indeed,  secretly  the  son  believed  his  father  too  conservative, 
too  cautious,  too  old-fashioned  and  slow;  and  at  times  was 
exceedingly  impatient  with  methods  that  he  was  confident 
he  could  immensely  improve. 

His  father  considered  him  for  a  time. 

"Charlie,  you  leave  this  matter  alone,"  he  said.  "You 
keep  out  of  it.  Whatever's  to  be  done,  I'll  do.  You 
would  go  too  far.  You  can  give  your  attention  to  seeing 
that  the  crops  are  watered  and  the  hay  cut  on  time;  you 
should  be  down  at  Rosita  now  looking  after  things." 

"I'll  run  down  in  the  car  this  evening,"  was  the  answer. 

44 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"To-morrow  I'm  going  to  Kennard,  where  I  haven't  been  for 
two  weeks.  The  wool  in  the  warehouse  there  should  be  sold, 
and  a  buyer  from  Boston  wrote,  you  know,  that  he  would 
be  there  this  week.  And  I  think  we  can  get  our  price." 

Kennard  was  the  nearest  railroad  point  and  forty  miles 
south.  It  was  a  pleasant  little  city,  with  some  of  the 
attractions  of  larger  places.  Of  these  Charlie  was  thinking 
rather  than  of  the  wool.  He  would  attend  to  the  wool 
business,  of  course,  but  it  was  an  excuse  instead  of  a  reason 
for  the  projected  visit  on  the  morrow. 

"Very  well,  it's  time  the  wool  is  sold;  the  price  is  good  at 
present,"  his  father  agreed. 

Charlie  recurred  to  the  matter  of  the  Stevenson  ranch. 

"What's  this  fellow's  name  who  bought  out  Stevenson?" 

"Lee  Bryant.  A  young  man.  And  I  don't  like  him; 
I'm  afraid  he's  a  trouble-maker.  You  should  remember 
him,  Charlie,  for  he's  the  fellow  who  rilled  the  radiator  of  the 
car  at  the  ford  on  Perro  Creek  and  who  threw  your  money 
back  in  your  face." 

Young  Menocal's  thin  figure  stiffened,  while  his  small 
black  moustache  rose  in  two  points  of  ire. 

"Him!  That  scoundrel  who  insulted  me  before  Louise! 
That  lamb-stealer!"  he  shrilled. 

"That  is  the  man,"  his  father  affirmed. 

Charlie  spat  forth  a  string  of  Spanish  curses.  When  he 
had  recovered  from  his  outburst  of  passion,  he  said: 

"Well,  I'm  glad  he's  the  man.  He'll  pay  for  that.  Louise 
said  nothing,  but  she  heard  him.  And  now  he's  trying  to 
steal  our  water,  too !  I'd  like  to  tie  him  down  on  a  cactus- 
bed  and  run  a  band  of  sheep  over  him." 

4$ 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Charlie,  Charlie,  control  yourself.  Don't  exhaust  your 
strength  by  being  angry;  it's  bad  for  you  in  this  heat;  sun- 
strokes are  sometimes  brought  on  that  way.  Besides,  such 
talk  as  you  uttered  is  foolish  and  dangerous." 

"Bah,  I'm  not  afraid  of  a  sunstroke." 

"Anyway,  it's  unwise  to  be  angry,"  his  father  warned. 
"When  you're  in  a  temper,  you  talk  loud;  and  people  may 
hear  it  and  repeat  it,  making  trouble.  Now  I  must  return 
to  the  bank.  But  remember  what  I  say:  you're  not  to 
meddle  in  this  Perro  Creek  matter.  Do  you  hear?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  I  hear,"  said  Charlie. 

His  face  as  his  father  walked  away  did  not,  however, 
indicate  acquiescence  in  this  tame  course.  His  heart  was 
full  of  rancour  for  the  insulting  stranger  of  the  ford;  and  where 
the  fires  of  his  hatred  blew,  his  feet  would  follow. 


46 


CHAPTER  V 

Though  Lee  Bryant,  during  his  colloquy  with  Menocal, 
had  spoken  confidently  of  his  ability  to  obtain  money  where- 
with to  construct  a  canal  system  linking  the  Pinas  River  and 
the  Perro  Creek  ranch,  he  had  no  definite  promise  of  funds 
from  any  source.  Nor  would  the  project  be  ripe  for  financ- 
ing before  he  had  completed  his  surveys  and  made  his  cost 
estimates. 

He  had  become  interested  in  the  undertaking  in  this  way. 
Staying  over  night  with  the  Stevensons  by  chance  a  month 
previous,  a  stranger,  his  speculation  was  aroused  when 
through  questions  about  the  ranch  he  learned  of  the  unused 
Pinas  River  water  right,  a  right  valid  but  apparently  im- 
practicable. Was  it  indeed  impracticable?  Would  the 
cost  of  bringing  water  to  the  land  be,  after  all,  prohibitive? 
In  fact,  had  a  competent  engineer  ever  gone  into  the  matter? 
He  doubted  it.  The  history  of  the  property,  so  far  as  he 
could  glean  from  Stevenson,  disclosed  on  the  part  of  no  one 
any  serious  effort  ever  to  develop  the  ranch.  In  the  begin- 
ning Menocal  had  probably  had  some  faint  notion  of  carrying 
out  the  scheme,  but  if  so,  had  afterward  abandoned  the 
enterprise.  The  tract  of  five  thousand  acres  of  land  had 
originally  been  a  small  Mexican  grant;  it  lay  in  the  midst  of 
government  land;  and  when  Menocal  came  into  possession 
of  the  ranch,  some  conception  of  utilizing  water  from  the 

47 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Pinas  must  have  inspired  him  to  acquire  the  appropriation 
of  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  second  feet.  Well,  the 
land,  theoretically  at  any  rate,  had  water;  and  if  water 
actually  could  be  delivered,  an  extraordinary  value  would 
accrue  to  the  now  nearly  worthless  tract.  It  was  a  problem 
for  engineers;  it  was  one  of  the  possibilities  that  if  seized 
might  be  converted  into  a  fact.  Bryant  was  an  engineer, 
and  he  was  just  then  foot-loose. 

From  the  worried  ranchman,  Stevenson,  who  appeared 
glad  to  talk  of  his  affairs  to  someone,  he  learned  that  the  man 
was  both  dissatisfied  with  the  country  and  straitened  in 
circumstances.  Bryant  judged  that  his  host  would  consider 
any  offer  which  would  enable  him  to  realize  something  on  the 
ranch  and  to  depart;  so  that  particular  aspect  of  the  matter 
if  undertaken,  namely,  securing  title  to  the  land  and  water 
right,  seemed  favourable.  If  no  insurmountable  obstacle 
stood  in  the  way  of  building  a  dam  and  a  canal,  arising  from 
construction  elements,  it  assuredly  looked  as  if  money  was 
to  be  made  out  of  the  project. 

With  his  mind  kindling  to  the  idea  Bryant  rode  north- 
ward next  morning  along  the  base  of  the  mountains,  study- 
ing the  hillsides  where  a  canal  naturally  should  run,  all  the 
way  up  to  the  Pinas  River.  Afterward  he  reconnoitered 
the  mesa,  hitting  at  last  on  a  slight  elevation,  hardly  to  be 
called  a  ridge,  that  projected  from  a  hillside  a  mile  below 
Bartolo  and  curved  in  a  gentle  crescent  for  about  three  miles 
from  the  range  of  mountains  down  the  mesa,  again  bending 
in  toward  the  hills  close  to  the  north  line  of  the  Perro  Creek 
ranch. 

Next,  he  absented  himself  for  a  week  at  the  state  capital, 

48 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

where  he  industriously  studied  the  water  and  land  records 
pertaining  to  the  district.  When  he  returned,  he  brought 
with  him  a  surveying  instrument  and  a  boy  for  helper.  He 
pitched  a  tent  out  of  sight  in  a  hollow  at  the  foot  of  a  hill, 
worked  early  and  late  running  his  lines,  establishing  a  dam 
site,  and  surveying  the  river  bottom  near  the  mouth  of  Pinas 
Canon,  and  remained  practically  unseen  except  by  a  few 
incurious  Mexicans.  His  instrument  proved  the  correctness 
of  his  conclusion  regarding  the  crescent-shaped  elevation  as 
a  practical  grade  for  a  canal,  which  though  necessitating  a 
longer  course  would  nevertheless  immensely  lessen  the  time, 
expense,  and  difficulties  of  digging  when  compared  with  a 
line  along  the  mountains'  flanks  with  its  danger  of  washouts 
and  earth  slides.  Nor  did  he  stop  there.  He  made  rapid 
but  reliable  topographical  measurements,  on  a  general 
scale,  of  the  mesa  for  five  miles  out  from  the  mountains, 
between  Bartolo  and  Perro  Creek,  locating  among  other 
things  a  large  depression  in  the  plain,  three  miles  southwest 
of  the  town,  which  might  by  diking  be  converted  into  a  flood 
water  reservoir.  Then  he  folded  his  tent  and  again  dis- 
appeared for  a  week.  When,  finally,  he  rode  to  Stevenson's 
ranch  house  that  hot  July  afternoon  and  made  a  trade  for 
the  five  thousand  acres  of  land,  he  was  the  possessor  of 
considerably  more  knowledge  of  the  locality  and  its  possi- 
bilities than  any  one  would  have  guessed. 

And  now  he  was  owner  of  the  ranch  and  committed  to 
the  enterprise. 

A  few  days  after  Bryant's  visit  to  Bartolo  Stevenson  dis- 
posed of  his  sheep  to  Graham,  the  owner  of  the  large  ranch 
on  Diamond  Creek,  loaded  his  household  goods,  except  the 

49 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

stove  and  some  of  the  furniture  which  the  engineer  bought, 
and  with  his  wife  and  boy  drove  away  in  his  sheep  wagon  for 
Kennard  and  for  the  new  farm  in  Nebraska.  Bryant's  own 
effects — trunk,  bedding,  provisions,  surveying  instruments, 
draughting-board,  and  the  like,  came  up  from  the  railroad 
town  by  wagon,  and  with  them  the  fourteen-year-old  lad, 
Dave  Morris,  a  gangling,  long-legged  boy  extremely  depend- 
able and  extraordinarily  serious,  who  had  carried  rod  for  the 
engineer  during  the  week  of  preliminary  surveying. 

The  man  and  boy  now  attacked  the  canal  line  in  earnest, 
with  Bryant  intent  on  establishing  its  course,  location,  and 
displacement  exactly,  so  that  he  could  make  necessary 
blueprints  and  compile  construction  estimates.  It  was 
while  they  were  working  along  the  first  mile  of  the  line, 
where  it  ran  from  the  Pinas  River  along  the  base  of  a  hill 
to  the  low  ridge  that  bore  out  upon  the  mesa,  that  they  re- 
ceived their  first  interruption.  The  worst  and  most  ex- 
pensive part  of  the  canal  to  build  would  be  this  section,  and 
the  engineer  was  therefore  taking  especial  care  in  its  survey- 
ing; near  the  river  the  line  traversed  several  fenced  tracts 
of  ground  extending  part  way  up  the  hillside,  fields  owned  by 
natives;  and  it  was  one  of  these  Mexicans  who  slouched 
forward  to  the  spot  where  Bryant  and  Dave  worked  and 
ordered  them  to  get  out  of  his  field. 

Bryant  straightened  up  from  sighting  through  his  transit, 
and  asked,  "What's  on  your  mind?  What's  disturbing 
your  brain,  hombre  ?  " 

"You  get  off,"  was  the  unkempt  fellow's  answer. 

"Why?" 

"You  can't  come  on  my  ranch;  get  off." 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

The  engineer  pulled  a  map  from  his  hip  pocket — a  copy 
made  from  one  filed  in  the  land  commissioner's  office  thirty 
years  previous.  He  spread  it  open  before  the  Mexican. 

"  See  this?  Here  is  Bartolo,  here  is  the  river,  here  is  your 
field,"  he  said,  pointing  with  a  finger.  "Now  look  at  that 
line;  it  runs  across  this  field  right  where  we  stand.  That's 
the  Perro  Creek  Canal,  extending  down  to  Perro  Creek." 

The  man  stared  at  the  earth  under  his  feet. 

"No,  I  see  no  canal,"  he  stated,  now  looking  right  and 
left  as  if  to  make  sure.  "There  is  no  canal." 

"Yes,  there  is.  But  it  needs  cleaning  badly.  I'm  sur- 
veying its  banks  again  and  then  I  shall  clean  out  the  dirt. 
You  can  see  that  it  needs  cleaning,  because  you  can  scarcely 
see  it  at  all.  Menocal,  the  banker,  didn't  take  very  good 
care  of  the  canal  after  he  built  it;  that's  the  trouble.  Hello, 
does  that  surprise  you?  Yes,  Mr.  Menocal  got  the  water 
right  and  dug  the  ditch  in  the  first  place;  and  he  also  secured 
a  right  of  way  across  these  fields,  sixty  feet  wide,  by  buying 
it  from  whoever  owned  the  ground  at  that  time,  and  the 
right  of  way  is  certified  to  the  state.  Now,  I  own  Perro 
Creek  ranch  and  the  Perro  Creek  canal  and  likewise  the 
right  of  way.  So  you  see,  Jose,  or  whatever  your  name  is, 
we're  standing  on  my  ground  and  not  yours;  I  could  even 
make  you  take  down  your  fence  where  it  crosses  my  right 
of  way." 

The  Mexican  blinked  stupidly. 

"I  was  born  here;  my  father  was  born  here;  my  grand- 
father lived  here,"  he  said.  "There  have  been  little  ditches, 
many  of  them,  but  never  a  big  canal  in  this  field.  You  must 
get  off." 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"No;  you're  mistaken.  Go  see  Mr.  Menocal  and  he  will 
set  you  right." 

"I  saw  Charlie  Menocal,  who  said  to  drive  strangers  off." 

"Well,  Charlie  had  best  keep  his  fingers  out  of  this  dish, 
or  he  may  find  it  full  of  pepper,  and  you  tell  him  so  next  time 
you  talk  with  him." 

Bryant  folded  his  map  and  restored  it  to  his  pocket, 
while  the  Mexican  went  away  to  his  house. 

That  day  the  engineer  worked  until  darkness  shut  down. 
At  three  o'clock  next  morning  he  routed  his  young  assistant 
out  of  bed  and  by  dawn  they  were  in  the  fields  again.  Know- 
ing that  the  Menocals  had  set  about  impeding  and  if  possi- 
ble altogether  obstructing  him,  he  proposed  to  be  done,  as 
quickly  as  careful  surveying  allowed,  with  the  fenced  part 
of  the  hillside  where  plausible  controversies  could  be  in- 
vented. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  second  day  he  had  progressed  into 
the  last  tract  of  owned  ground.  He  breathed  more  freely. 
In  his  statement  to  the  Mexican  concerning  the  right  of  way 
he  had  been  exactly  right;  and  he  was  following  to  a  dot  the 
original  course  taken  by  the  early  ditch.  He  could  have 
improved  upon  this  section  of  the  canal  by  another  survey, 
but  that  would  have  involved  him  in  a  host  of  troubles,  very 
likely  unsolvable  ones,  in  securing  title  to  another  strip  of 
ground  across  the  fields.  Without  question  Menocal's  in- 
fluence would  prevent  the  owners  from  selling,  even  if 
Bryant  had  the  money  with  which  to  buy  a  second  right  of 
way,  which  he  had  not.  Dollar  for  dollar  it  would  be  cheap- 
er in  the  long  run  to  use  the  old  line.  Well,  Dave  was  al- 
ready across  the  last  fence  with  his  rod;  they  would  soon  be 

52 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

working  entirely  on  government  land;  and  with  that,  it  did 
not  matter  for  the  present  what  the  Mexican  landowners 
thought  or  did. 

Bryant  had  walked  fifty  yards  or  so  away  from  his  transit 
to  call  something  to  Dave,  when  the  crack  of  a  rifle  sounded 
from  the  hillside  and  a  bullet  whined  near  by.  The  en- 
gineer pivoted  about.  Another  shot  followed,  and  he  be- 
held a  spurt  of  dust  close  by  his  instrument.  The  hidden 
rifleman  was  not  seeking  to  murder  him,  but  to  destroy  his 
tools. 

There  were  no  more  shots  and  he  resumed  work.  Later 
on,  as  he  neared  the  fence  and  was  establishing  his  last 
points  within  the  field,  a  horseman  with  a  gray  moustache 
came  galloping  up  along  the  stretch  of  barb  wire.  He 
nodded,  inquired  if  the  engineer  was  named  Bryant,  and 
announced  that  he  had  half  a  dozen  injunctions  to  serve. 

"I  expected  something  like  this;  glad  you  didn't  arrive 
any  sooner,"  Lee  remarked. 

"Well,  I  was  away  from  town,  or  I'd  have  been  here  by 
noon,"  the  horseman,  an  American,  stated.  "The  in- 
junctions cover  all  these  places  between  here  and  the  river. 
You  and  any  one  you  hire  must  keep  off  the  tracts  specified 
until  the  cases  come  up  before  the  judge." 

"All  right,  sheriff.  Wait  till  I  take  a  last  squint  or  two  and 
I'll  vacate." 

The  horseman  idly  watched  the  engineer  make  his  final 
measurements,  then  when  Bryant  had  lifted  his  tripod  over 
the  wire  and  told  his  assistant  Dave  they  would  call  it  a  day 
and  stop,  he  dismounted  and  sat  down  for  a  smoke  with  the 
man  on  whom  he  had  served  his  papers. 

53 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Looks  as  if  you've  stirred  up  some  interest  in  your 
doings,"  he  remarked,  expelling  a  thread  of  smoke.  "All 
the  Mexicans  from  here  down  to  Rosita  are  gabbling  about 
your  canal.  Don't  seem  pleased  with  you." 

"There's  one  who  doesn't,  in  any  case,"  was  the  response. 
"He  took  a  coupleof  shots  atmy  instrument  a  while  ago  from 
up  yonder  in  the  sagebrush  when  I  had  stepped  aside  for  a 
moment." 

The  sheriff  gazed  at  the  hillside. 

"A  few  hombres  around  here  will  bear  watching,"  said  he. 
For  a  little  he  meditated,  then  went  on,  "You're  a  white 
man  and  so  am  I ;  they  don't  like  our  colour  any  too  well,  at 
bottom.  I  s'pose  you  know  that." 

"Yes.  But  they  needn't  express  their  feelings  with  rifles. 
As  far  as  these  injunctions  are  concerned,  they'll  be  dis- 
missed eventually,  for  there's  no  question  about  my  right 
of  way  through  here.  Menocal  secured  it  himself  and  it's 
all  a  matter  of  record — the  deeds,  the  certificate  to  the 
state,  and  the  rest." 

"Menocal  got  it,  you  say?" 

"Nobody  else.  Some  time  or  other  he  must  have  ex- 
pected to  water  Perro  Creek  ranch,  which  he  owned  until  he 
sold  it  to  Stevenson." 

"I  knew  he  had  that  place,"  said  the  visitor,  "but  I  didn't 
know  it  carried  a  water  right  from  the  Pinas.  Where  does 
this  move  of  yours  hit  Menocal?" 

"In  his  ranches  down  the  river;  he's  been  using  this  water 
for  them,"  Bryant  explained.  "I  suppose  it's  been  taken 
for  granted  by  nearly  everyone  that  the  water  belonged  to 
those  farms  down  there,  but  it  doesn't." 

54 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"How  much  water  in  this  right?  " 

"Hundred  and  twenty-five  second  feet." 

"Whew!  That  takes  a  chunk  out  of  the  Pinas.  And  I 
presume  that  by  this  time  Menocal  knows  what  you're 
doing?" 

"Oh,  yes;  I  told  him.    He  doesn't  like  it,  of  course." 

The  sheriff  turned  for  a  full  view  of  Bryant's  face.  In 
respect  to  features  the  two  men  were  not  unlike:  both  had 
the  same  thin  curving  nose  and  level  eyes  and  cut  of  jaw. 

"Well,  let  me  say  as  between  man  and  man,"  the  elder 
spoke,  "that  Menocal  won't  let  you  take  away  that  much 
water  from  him  if  he  can  help  it.  And  I'll  drop  you  some 
more  news,  in  addition:  several  Mexicans  are  going  to  file  on 
homesteads  or  desert  claims  along  the  base  of  the  hills  south 
of  here,  scattered  along  like  and  running  part  way  up  the 
mountain  sides.  I  don't  know  where  your  canal  to  Perro 
Creek  will  go,  but  if  its  line  follows  the  foot  of  the  range,  as 
may  be  likely,  it  might  happen  to  find  those  claims  in  the 
way." 

"Any  idea  in  your  mind  where  those  fellows  may  locate 
their  filings?  " 

"No;  I  can't  say  definitely.  Shouldn't  be  surprised  if 
they  began  stringing  them  along  a  couple  of  miles  south  of 
here  till  they  reached  Perro  Creek." 

Bryant  gazed  at  the  flank  of  the  mountain.  The  gentle 
ridge  where  his  ditch  line  left  the  hillside  was  but  half  a 
mile  away.  Beyond  that  the  Mexicans  could  file  to  their 
hearts'  content,  for  they  would  be  left  on  one  side  by  the 
canal.  But  in  all  this  he  perceived  Menocal's  cunning 
hand. 

55 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Much  obliged  to  you,  sheriff,"  said  he.  "I'll  see  if  I 
can't  find  some  way  to  satisfy  those  chaps  when  the  time 
comes." 

His  visitor  rose  and  put  foot  in  stirrup. 

"If  any  of  these  Mexicans  grow  ugly,  let  me  know,"  he 
remarked.  "I'll  tell  them  where  to  head  in.  Drop  in  at 
my  office  at  the  courthouse  when  you're  in  town;  Winship's 
my  name.  I  brought  these  notices  over  myself  in  order  to 
look  at  you,  for  they  were  saying  you  are  a  trouble-maker, 
but  that's  what  these  natives  frequently  state  when  they 
want  to  fix  an  alibi  for  themselves  before  they  start  some- 
thing. I'll  see  if  I  can  learn  anything  of  the  fellow  who  was 
up  yonder  shooting.  These  honibres  are  altogether  too  free 
with  firearms,  anyway.  Better  feed  that  lad  there  with 
you  a  few  more  meals  a  day;  looks  as  if  he  could  use  them." 

Bryant  laughed. 

"Dave's  a  little  lean,  but  he's  all  there.  Looks  don't 
count,  do  they,  partner?" 

"I  do  the  best  I  can,"  Dave  responded,  solemnly. 

"Not  at  meal-time,  I  reckon,"  the  sheriff  said.  "Feed 
up  and  get  fat.  A  kid  like  you  has  no  business  having  so 
many  joints  and  bones  sticking  out." 

"I  been  through  a  hard  winter  last  winter,  and  this  spring, 
too,  till  Mr.  Bryant  picked  me  up." 

"How's  that?  "  the  horseman  inquired. 

"My  mother  died  at  Kennard.  I  didn't  get  on  very 
well  after  that;  not  much  there  for  a  boy  to  work  at.  And 
I  hadn't  any  folks." 

"Hump.    What's  your  last  name?  " 

"Morris." 

56 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Any  relation  to  Jack  Morris?  " 

"He  was  my  father. " 

The  sheriff  nodded.  " Knew  him  well;  he  died  four  years 
ago.  And  your  mother  died  last  winter?  Little  woman,  I 
recall." 

"Little,  but  a  lot  better  than  plenty  of  bigger  ones  I  know 
of,"  Dave  asserted,  stoutly.  "  She  died  of  pneumonia." 

"Boy,  I've  held  you  on  my  knee  when  you  were  about  as 
high  as  my  hand.  But  I  guess  you  don't  remember  that, 
and  I'm  mighty  sorry  to  learn  your  mother's  gone.  Dave — 
is  that  your  name?  Well,  now,  Dave,  fight  your  grub 
harder  from  now  on." 

The  speaker  gathered  his  reins,  nodded,  and  rode  away 
along  the  barb  wire  fence. 


57 


CHAPTER  VI 

"When  gentlemen  of  a  dark  and  sinister  cast  of  mind 
deliberately  set  out  to  frustrate  one's  legitimate  efforts 
under  a  misapprehension  as  to  the  course  to  be  pursued,  the 
proper  diplomacy  in  such  a  case  is  to  foster  the  delusion 
circulating  in  their  craniums  as  long  as  possible  and  thus 
divert  their  attention  from  the  real  purpose.  Don't  you 
agree  with  me,  David? "  Lee  Bryant  gravely  inquired  of 
his  young  companion,  as  they  were  about  to  set  forth  next 
morning. 

"Yes,  sir,"  Dave  affirmed,  to  whom  the  statement  was  so 
much  Greek. 

"Then  since  the  vote  is  unanimous,  we'll  proceed  to  run 
a  line  along  the  mountain  side  where  it  will  collide  with 
these  new  homesteads." 

The  engineer  shouldered  tripod  and  rod,  whistled  Mike 
to  heel,  and  with  Dave  started  forward.  Half  way  to  Bar- 
tolo  they  perceived  three  men  busy  on  the  hillside,  so  Bry- 
ant swung  up  to  a  point  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off  and  began 
surveying.  When  he  approached  the  workmen,  Mexicans 
naturally,  he  saw  that  they  were  engaged  hi  setting  fence 
posts,  of  which  a  row  was  already  in  line  part  way  up  the 
hill. 

The  men  dropped  their  tools  and  confronted  him  as  he 
drew  near. 

58 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"This  is  my  land;  you  keep  away,"  one  exclaimed,  with 
waving  arms,  while  the  other  backed  him  up  in  a  show  of 
force. 

"How  can  I  build  a  canal  here  if  you  won't  let  me  go 
through?"  Bryant  demanded. 

"No  go  through,  no  canal  on  my  claim!" 

"Well,  just  let  me  run  a  line,  anyhow." 

"No.     Keep  off,  keep  off,"  was  the  obstinate  answer. 

The  engineer  continued  to  argue,  now  as  if  in  anger  and 
now  with  a  conciliatory  mien,  all  the  while  protesting  that 
the  homesteader  must  not  prevent  the  construction  of  the 
canal.  But  he  received  only  shakes  of  the  head,  short  replies, 
and  malicious  looks.  So  at  length,  with  every  pretense  of 
disappointment  and  dejection,  he  went  down  the  hillside. 

A  mile  farther  along,  where  he  found  two  more  men  oc- 
cupied at  similar  labour,  he  likewise  dissembled  his  purpose, 
with  the  same  opposition,  controversy,  and  retreat.  He 
thereupon  led  Dave  back  to  the  ranch  house,  where  he 
prepared  and  ate  dinner  with  satisfaction.  Very  likely 
Menocal  would  receive  reports  that  evening  faithfully 
depicting  his  chagrin  and  despair,  or  whatever  were  the 
Mexican  equivalents. 

Yet  while  he  deluded  the  banker,  he  must  secretly  carry 
on  his  actual  surveying  on  the  mesa.  Since  the  men  setting 
fence  posts  had  a  fairly  wide  view  of  the  plain,  he  deter- 
mined to  work  in  the  open  only  for  two  or  three  hours  at 
daybreak  before  the  Mexicans  were  about.  For  Menocal, 
or  any  one  else,  must  have  no  suspicion  of  his  real  ditch  line 
until  an  application  for  construction  of  the  project  had 
been  filed  in  the  state  engineer's  office. 

59 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Signs  that  the  banker  had  taken  measures  to  keep  him 
under  surveillance  were  not  wanting. 

"Dave,"  he  said,  "have  you  noticed  a  sheepherder  with 
a  bunch  of  sheep  hanging  around  here,  when  he  should  be  up 
in  the  mountains  where  the  range  is  good?  " 

"Yes,  I've  seen  him.    And  he  hasn't  a  full  band,  either." 

"Looks  as  if  he's  grazing  down  here  on  the  mesa  so  as  to 
watch  us,"  Bryant  mused.  "When  we  went  north,  he  and 
his  sheep  drifted  in  that  direction;  when  we  were  over  on 
the  mountain  side,  they  followed  there.  What  shall  we  do 
about  it?" 

"I  don't  see  that  we  can  do  anything  except  to  watch 
him,  too,  and  fool  him."  The  lad  took  thought  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  proceeded,  "Somebody  was  around  here 
yesterday  while  we  were  away,  for  I  saw  a  brown  paper 
cigarette  stub  on  the  ground  in  front  of  the  door  this 
morning.  You  use  white  papers;  it's  mostly  Mexicans  who 
have  those  straw  papers." 

"Then  we  had  better  put  an  extra  nail  or  two  in  the 
windows  as  a  precaution,"  Lee  stated,  "before  we  go  down 
to  Sarita  Creek.  And  I'll  leave  Mike  here  also.  If  anybody 
comes  fooling  around,  he'll  take  a  piece  out  of  the  fellow's 
leg." 

In  addition  to  nailing  the  windows  and  leaving  Mike  at 
the  door,  much  to  his  dissatisfaction,  Bryant  secreted  his 
papers,  note-books,  and  maps,  the  theft  of  which  would  be 
an  extremely  serious  loss.  Menocal  probably  would  not 
instigate  open  lawlessness,  but  his  hirelings  might  break 
into  the  house  on  their  own  initiative.  And  this  was  not 
unlikely  since  a  bitter  feeling  was  systematically  being 

60 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

aroused  against  Bryant  and  his  project  among  the  prepon- 
derate Mexican  inhabitants. 

But  for  the  time  being  he  dismissed  this  matter  from  his 
thoughts,  when  with  tripod  and  rod  and  a  bundle  of  stakes 
on  Dick's  saddle  he  and  Davevset  out  for  Sarita  Creek, 
leading  the  horse.  Bryant  had  postponed,  under  pressure 
of  work,  the  business  of  fixing  the  feminine  homesteaders' 
garden  ditch,  until  his  conscience  began  to  prick  him 
on  the  subject.  He  had  neither  seen  nor  had  news  of 
them  since  the  chance  meeting  at  the  ford;  but  now,  as 
he  could  survey  his  canal  line  on  the  mesa  only  during 
the  early  hours,  he  planned  to  make  frequent  visits  to  the 
girls. 

That  they  already  had  a  caller  this  afternoon  he  discovered 
on  arriving  at  the  two  little  cabins  built  of  boards,  peeping 
forth  from  among  the  trees  in  the  mouth  of  the  canon.  The 
place  was  indeed  charming,  with  its  grass  and  shade,  with 
its  brook  flowing  close  by  the  dwellings,  with  walls  of  rock 
rising  behind.  Just  now  an  automobile  rested  before  the 
trees;  and  the  engineer  saw  a  man  sitting  on  the  grass  with 
Ruth  Gardner  and  Imogene  Martin,  the  three  chatting  and 
laughing  gaily.  When  Bryant  got  a  good  look  at  the  other 
visitor  he  gave  vent  to  an  ejaculation  in  which  was  blended 
surprise  and  contempt.  "That  magpie!  Of  all  damn 
impudence!"  For  the  cavalier  so  debonairly  entertaining 
the  young  ladies  was  none  other  than  the  olive-skinned 
Charlie  Menocal. 

A  sense  of  pique  was  Bryant's  succeeding  feeling.  He 
would  have  disdainfully  denied  that  he  was  moved  by  a 
pang  of  jealousy.  But  he  had  anticipated  finding  the  girls 

6l 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

alone  and  having  a  pleasant  chat  with  them,  enjoying  their 
companionship,  relaxing  from  the  strain  of  arduous  work, 
barkening  to  their  badinage.  Indeed,  if  the  interloper  had 
been  someone  else,  some  other  man,  at  least,  he  would  have 
experienced  a  turn  of  disappointment — but  that  the  in- 
dividual should  be  this  tricky,  coddled,  egotistical  Charlie 
Menocal!  Well,  he  should  align  the  girls'  irrigating  ditch 
and  then  go  about  his  business. 

"I've  been  delayed  in  coming  to  correct  your  water  flow," 
he  remarked,  when  the  fair  homesteaders  had  given  him 
greeting,  "but  I'm  on  hand  at  last." 

Ruth  Gardner,  looking  prettier  and  fuller  of  spirits  than 
ever,  assured  him  the  ditch  was  behaving  no  better  than 
before.  Her  next  words,  however,  left  him  with  an  im- 
pression that  he  and  not  Charlie  Monocal  was  the  intruder, 
which  hardened  his  annoyance  into  a  desire  to  have  done 
with  the  matter. 

"I  wish  you  had  come  some  other  day,  for  we're  just 
about  to  depart,"  she  exclaimed.  "Mr.  Menocal  is  very 
kindly  taking  Imo  and  me  in  his  car  to  see  the  old  ruins  of  a 
pueblo  somewhere  over  west.  We'll  be  gone  probably  all 
the  rest  of  the  afternoon,  and  there'll  be  no  one  to  show  you 
the  ditch  and  what's  wrong  with  it." 

"Oh,  I'll  find  out  what's  wrong  and  straighten  out 
the  trouble,"  the  engineer  replied.  "You've  a  spade  or 
shovel,  I  suppose?  Go  right  ahead  with  your  exploring 
expedition  and  don't  worry  about  me;  the  ditch  will  be 
working  properly  when  you  return." 

"Well,  if  you  don't  really  need  us " 

"Not  in  the  least, "  was  his  assurance. 

62 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

She  still  hesitated,  while  her  look  travelled  from  Bryant  to 
Menocal  and  back  again.  To  the  engineer  that  inclusive 
regard  indicated  that  her  mind  was  less  concerned  with  the 
garden  ditch  than  with  a  comparison  of  her  two  visitors; 
and  with  a  sudden  feeling  of  warmth  about  his  neck  Bryant 
admitted  to  himself  that  he  presented  no  attractions.  He 
wore  laced  boots,  soiled  khaki  trousers  and  flannel  shirt, 
with  his  hat  pulled  over  one  eye  against  the  sun;  Menocal 
was  dressed  in  light  gray  clothes,  thin  and  cool,  low  white 
shoes,  a  pale  pink  silk  shirt  (trust  a  Mexican  for  colour 
somewhere!)  a  vivid  rose-hued  scarf,  and  a  white  cap.  To 
further  emphasize  the  contrast,  Bryant  led  a  loaded  horse 
and  a  gangling  boy,  while  Charlie  Menocal  leaned  at  ease 
against  his  twin-six.  Quite  a  difference,  for  a  fact.  And 
it  was  plain  that  Ruth  Gardner  noted  it  with  discrim- 
ination. 

Imogene  Martin  now  spoke. 

"I  don't  think  I'll  go,  Ruth.  I've  not  been  feeling  well 
the  last  day  or  two,  as  you  know,  and  I'm  afraid  to  risk  the 
sun." 

"Oh,  come  on,  Imo.  The  ride  will  do  you  good,"  her 
friend  replied,  with  a  trace  of  impatience. 

"No,  I  told  Mr.  Monocal  when  he  proposed  the  expedition 
that  I  doubted  if  I  should  go." 

"Too  bad  not  to  come,  Miss  Martin,"  that  worthy  re- 
marked, without  enthusiasm.  Clearly  his  interest  in  what 
company  he  should  have  did  not  point  toward  her. 

"I'm  going,  at  any  rate,"  Ruth  Gardner  said.  And 
then,  "Oh,  dear!  I  overlooked  altogether  introducing  you 
you  two  gentlemen." 

63 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Bryant  was  human;  the  opportunity  was  one  he  could 
not  let  pass.  So  smiling  broadly  he  said : 

"We've  met  before,  haven't  we,  Menocal?  At  Perro 
Creek  ford."  And  receiving  no  response  but  a  scowl,  he 
spoke  at  large,  "Well,  I  must  get  busy  if  I'm  to  save  those 
beans." 

He  led  Dick,  with  Dave  at  his  side,  toward  the  garden  on 
open  ground  below  the  trees,  where  the  bean  vines  were 
already  turning  yellow  for  lack  of  water.  He  chuckled  as  he 
went,  for  the  disappearance  of  Charlie  Menocal's  patroniz- 
ing air  and  the  sudden  thundercloud  hanging  on  his  visage 
attested  that  the  charge  had  gone  home. 

Ten  minutes  later  the  automobile  passed  the  garden,  but 
Bryant,  who  had  set  up  his  tripod  and  stationed  Dave  with 
his  rod  some  distance  off,  did  not  see  the  hand  Ruth  Gard- 
ner waved.  His  eye  was  where  an  engineer's  eye  should  be, 
at  his  transit. 

"She  waved  at  you,"  Dave  called. 

"Who?" 

"That  girl  with  the  Mexican." 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

When  Bryant  used  that  tone,  Dave  recognized  the  wis- 
dom of  silence.  He  pretended  that  he  had  not  heard. 
Even  his  employer,  whom  he  worshipped,  had  strange,  mys- 
terious moods. 


64 


CHAPTER  VII 

The  defect  in  the  ditch  proved  to  be  one  of  minor  char- 
acter, which  Bryant  corrected  after  a  few  observations  and 
half  an  hour's  work  with  a  shovel.  While  he  was  thus 
engaged,  Imogene  Martin,  wearing  a  wide-brimmed  straw 
hat,  strolled  out  to  watch  his  operations.  She  was  in  a 
friendly  and  talkative  mood,  and  asked  questions  concern- 
ing ditches  and  irrigation  and  surveying,  and  about  Dave, 
and  speculated  on  the  ruins  of  the  pueblo  whither  Ruth  and 
Charlie  Menocal  had  gone,  and  said  she  was  glad  Bryant 
had  bought  the  ranch  just  north  of  their  claims  and  would 
be  their  neighbour.  Only,  she  added,  she  was  sorry  to  learn 
that  he  was  having  trouble  with  the  people  about;  Mr.  Men- 
ocal had  stated  such  to  be  a  fact,  though  what  he  had  fur- 
ther hinted  of  Bryant's  endeavour  to  gain  property  to  which 
he  had  no  title  and  of  the  engineer's  being  a  trouble-maker, 
she  did  not  for  one  instant  believe. 

"I'll  be  a  trouble-maker  for  Charlie  and  his  dad  if  they 
continue  their  present  policy,"  Lee  vouchsafed,  tossing 
aside  a  shovelful  of  earth. 

Imogene  Martin  carefully  flattened  a  hill  of  bean 
plants  for  a  seat,  sat  down,  and  locked  her  hands  over  her 
knees. 

"I  think  you're  to  be  trusted,  so  I'll  tell  you  a  secret," 
she  remarked,  smiling.  "Charlie  Menocal  doesn't  make  a 

65 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

'hit'  with  me,  either.  When  you  referred  to  the  ford,  I 
could  scarcely  keep  my  face  straight;  and  my  feeling  ill  this 
afternoon,  though  partly  true,  was  also  partly  manufactured, 
because  I  didn't  want  to  go  to  those  old  ruins  with  him.  I 
don't  care  for  men  like  him  especially.  I  share  the  feeling 
of  my  uncle  in  Kennard " 

"You  have  an  uncle  there?  I  thought  you  were  from  the 
East." 

"I  am;  from  Ohio.  But  I've  an  uncle  and  aunt  living 
in  Kennard,  which  is  the  reason  Ruth  and  I  came  to  this 
section  for  homesteads.  Ruth  was  crazy  to  take  up  a 
claim,  having  read  how  easily  one  is  acquired,  while  my 
health  was  not  very  good  and  the  doctor  at  home  thought 
it  would  be  improved  by  being  in  the  open  in  a  high  altitude. 
Uncle  said  I'd  better  stay  with  him  and  aunt,  but  I  knew 
how  terribly  dissappointed  Ruth  would  be  if  I  did,  because 
she  couldn't  homestead  alone.  So  uncle  declared  that  if 
homesteaders  we  had  to  be,  then  we  must  locate  near  him 
where  he  could  have  me  under  his  eye,  so  to  speak.  I  my- 
self am  not  taking  this  claim  business  very  seriously.  And 
now  uncle,  who  once  had  some  controversy  with  the  elder 
Menocal,  wouldn't  be  very  well  pleased  if  he  knew  the  son 
was  making  calls  on  us." 

"So  others  besides  myself  have  trouble  with  the  Meno- 
cals,"  Bryant  stated. 

"Apparently.  I  don't  know  what  this  particular 
difficulty  was  about,  but  uncle  is  president  of  a  bank  in 
Kennard  and  so  it  may  have  been  some  financial  matter. 
Or  it  may  have  been  over  politics;  both  of  them  mix  in  that. 
Anyway,  he  doesn't  think  highly  of  the  elder  Menocal,  and 

66 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

has  no  use  at  all  for  the  younger;  so  I  know  he  would  be 
vexed  at  Ruth  and  me  for  receiving  this  Charlie." 

"You  didn't  know  him  that  day  he  and  I  clashed  at  the 
ford,"  Lee  suggested. 

"Oh,  no.  Our  meeting  came  about  one  afternoon  about 
a  week  afterward.  He  overtook  us  on  the  road  a  mile  or  so 
away  from  here  and  politely  offered  to  bring  us  home  in  his 
car;  we  were  walking  and  couldn't  very  well  refuse  his 
courtesy,  and  then  he  asked  to  call  and  Ruth  at  once  gave 
him  permission,  and  that's  the  way  it  came  about.  But  I 
thought  it  wise  to  draw  the  line  at  going  off  miles  and  miles 
with  him  to  see  ruins.  Of  course,  Ruth  hasn't  any  uncle  to 
consider,  but  uncle  or  no  uncle  I  should  have  drawn  the  line 
just  the  same." 

"A  colour  line,  eh?"   Lee  asked,  with  a  lift  of  his  brows. 

"Yes,  that's  it,  though  I  hesitated  to  put  it  in  just  those 
words,"  she  agreed,  with  a  nod,  while  both  her  lips  and  her 
blue  eyes  smiled  at  him  in  amusement.  "Really,  Mexicans 
are  of  different  blood  and  race,  you  know,  and  I  feel  the — 
gulf.  That  probably  sounds  foolish  and  ridiculous,  still  I 
can't  help  the  feeling.  When  I  look  at  a  man  like  Charlie 
Menocal,  I  see  the  Mexican  strain  uppermost  even  if  his 
mother  was  white;  and  I  think  what  strange,  savage,  un- 
guessed  traits  may  lurk  in  his  blood  from  a  long  time  back; 
and  I  shiver.  One  dare  not  say  they  have  ceased.  There 
may  be  forces  at  work  in  his  soul  that  are  inherited  from 
the  very  tribesmen  who  dwelt  in  that  pueblo  ages  ago, 
whose  ruins  he  and  Ruth  have  gone  to  see.  Who  knows? 
And  I'm  never  able  to  rid  myself  of  the  feeling  that  such 
forces  exist  in  him  and  his  kind." 

67 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

The  engineer  thrust  his  shovel  into  the  earth  and  seated 
himself  beside  the  girl. 

"Nor  I,"  said  he.  "And  I  suppose  that  feeling  will 
remain  between  persons  of  different  races  as  long  as  the 
races  themselves  last.  Those  who  ignore  or  deny  it  are 
simply  blind.  Why,  look,  there's  antipathy  between  even 
white  men  of  different  nationalities !  So  what  else  is  to  be 
expected  when  the  question  is  one  of  race  and  colour?  Nor 
will  one  or  two  generations  change  what  is  infused  in  blood 
and  sinew." 

"Now,  that's  what  uncle  says,"  Imogene  Martin  declared, 
"and  asserts  that's  the  reason  why  Mexicans  born  and 
raised  here  are  in  sympathy  with  those  across  the  border  in 
any  trouble  Mexico  has  with  our  country."  Her  face  all  at 
once  became  amused.  "He  says  craniums  were  shaped  long 
before  governments." 

Bryant  laughed  on  hearing  that  concise  summing  up  of 
the  case.  And  then  they  continued  to  talk  of  this  and  other 
subjects,  while  Dave  Morris  drew  near  and  silently  drank 
in  the  conversation,  most  of  which  passed  above  his  head. 
As  for  the  engineer,  he  found  in  his  companion  a  peculiar 
charm  that  he  never  would  have  suspected  from  their  first 
meeting  at  the  ford;  a  pleasure  begotten  of  a  quick  in- 
telligence and  a  keen,  trained  mind. 

"I'vedelayed  youinyour  work,"  she  exclaimed,  at  length. 

"Except  to  throw  out  a  few  shovelfuls  of  dirt,  and  that 
will  take  but  a  moment.  I  was  done.  I  didn't  sit  down 
until  it  was  practically  put  in  shape.  I  hope  we  shall  have 
another  talk  soon;  this  one  has  been  a  great  treat  for  me. 
Let  me  help  you  up." 

68 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

When  he  had  cleaned  the  last  clods  from  the  ditch,  he  set 
off  with  tripod  and  shovel  on  shoulder  to  walk  with  her  to 
the  cabins,  while  Dave  followed  with  Dick.  At  the  houses 
Bryant  cast  an  appraising  look  at  the  scanty  heap  of  chopped 
wood  and  wound  up  his  visit  by  seizing  the  axe  and  attack- 
ing the  store  of  dry  poles  hauled  from  the  canon  by  the 
man  who  had  built  the  cabins. 

"There,  that  will  keep  you  going  for  awhile,"  he  stated, 
when  he  had  produced  a  large  pile  of  sticks.  "I  don't 
believe  you're  strong  enough  to  handle  an  axe,  Miss  Martin; 
and  it  would  grieve  me  deeply  to  learn  you  had  removed  a 
toe  in  the  attempt.  Really,  this  homesteading  game  isn't 
for  women  and  girls." 

"Oh,  we've  made  out  fairly  well." 

"Your  spirit  is  admirable,  but  I  can't  say  as  much  for 
your  judgment  in  the  matter,"  he  returned,  good-naturedly. 
"Still,  we  all  go  hunting  trouble  in  our  own  individual 
fashion;  if  not  in  one  way,  why,  then  in  another." 

It  was  after  five  o'clock  when  Lee  Bryant  and  Dave,  once 
more  leading  the  loaded  horse,  took  their  departure  and 
followed  Sarita  Creek  down  to  the  mesa  trail.  When  they 
had  struck  into  the  latter  and  travelled  it  for  half  a  mile,  they 
saw  a  long  distance  ahead  someone  walking  toward  them, 
also  leading  a  horse.  In  a  land  where  men  saddle  a  mount 
to  ride  a  few  hundred  yards,  the  singular  coincidence  excited 
their  curiosity.  They  wondered  why  the  fellow  walked,  as 
doubtless  he  was  wondering  the  same  thing  of  them.  But  as 
they  drew  nearer  they  perceived  the  pedestrian  to  be  not  a 
man  but  a  woman;  and  when  they  met  Bryant  recognized  in 
her  the  girl  who  had  sat  by  Charlie  Menocal  in  his  auto- 

69 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

mobile  at  the  ford.  Her  gray  corded  riding  habit  was 
dusty;  she  appeared  both  hot  and  tired;  and  her  countenance 
showed  a  deep  dejection.  The  horse  he  led  was  limping. 

Bryant  raised  his  hat  and  addressed  her. 

"Your  horse  has  gone  lame,  I  see.  Can  I  be  of  any  ser- 
vice to  you?" 

"I'm  afraid  not;  he  acts  as  if  he  had  strained  a  tendon, " 
she  replied.  "  So  I'm  leading  him  home.  Our  ranch  is  on 
Diamond  Creek." 

"  But  you  had  a  fall!    There's  blood  on  your  glove." 

"No,  it's  not  from  that,"  she  said,  with  a  shake  of  her 
head. 

Bryant  again  remarked  the  exquisite  molding  of  her  face 
as  he  had  noted  it  at  their  first  meeting,  and  her  wide  brow 
and  clear  brown  eyes  and  the  fineness  of  her  skin,  and  her 
warm,  sensitive  lips,  at  this  instant  moving  in  the  barest 
tremble  imaginable.  She  was  gazing  at  him  with  a  curious, 
troubled  look. 

"Bring  Dick  here,"  Lee  bade  Dave. 

He  swiftly  untied  the  ropes  and  removed  tripod,  rod,  and 
saddle.  Then  he  unfastened  the  hitch  of  the  saddle  of  the 
horse  the  girl  led. 

"Why,  what  are  you  doing?"  she  exclaimed. 

"  Giving  you  a  fresh  horse.  You  can  ride  mine  home  and 
send  him  back  to  me  to-morrow;  I  live  just  ahead  on  Perro 
Creek  at  the  Stevenson  place." 

"I  wondered  if  you  weren't  the  new  owner,  for  I  had 
learned  that  the  ranch  had  been  sold  by  Mr.  Stevenson. 
Father  bought  his  sheep.  You  are  Mr.  Bryant,  aren't  you? 
This  is  most  kind  to  lend  me  your  horse." 

70 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"You'll  find  Dick  gentle;  and  you  can  lead  your  own 
mount.  Walking  appears  to  have  exhausted  you." 

Again  she  shook  her  head,  with  an  odd  expression  growing 
upon  her  face — anxiety,  distress,  just  what  Lee  could  not 
exactly  decide.  But  as  she  made  no  explanation,  he  gave 
her  a  hand  and  swung  her  upon  Dick,  after  which  he  handed 
her  the  reins  and  advanced  the  hope  that  she  should  arrive 
home  without  further  misadventure. 

She  made  no  move  to  depart,  however,  but  sat  regarding 
the  engineer. 

"I  was  at  your  house,"  she  stated,  finally. 

"To  see  me?" 

"To  find  you,  or  someone,  who  could  help  me.  When  my 
horse  went  lame  near  the  ford,  I  found  that  he  had  picked  up 
a  stone  which  I  couldn't  remove.  So  I  led  him  to  your 
house,  seeking  assistance.  When  I  reached  there — 

She  stopped  in  her  recital,  compressing  her  lips  and  gazing 
off  across  the  sagebrush. 

"Well?"  the  engineer  encouraged. 

"When  I  reached  there,  I  heard  a  dog  whining." 

Bryant  stiffened. 

"I  left  my  dog  Mike  behind,"  said  he. 

"The  sound  was  really  more  like  a  moaning,"  she  went  on. 
"At  first  I  could  see  nothing,  but  when  I  looked  everywhere 
I  found  that  it  came  from  one  of  the  three  cottonwood  trees. 
Somebody  had  hurt  him,  and  the  poor  creature  was  suffer- 
ing terribly.  I — I  can  hardly  tell  what  had  been  done  to 
him!"  And  she  shuddered. 

"  Mike !    They've  killed  my  dog  Mike ! " 

"They  nailed  him  to  a  cottonwood  tree.    A  nail  through 

7i 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

each  leg.  A  nail  through  his  throat.  Nails  through  his 
body.  They  had  crucified  him.  And,  oh,  his  pitiful  eyes !" 

Lee  Bryant  stood  perfectly  still  and  quiet.  Dave  was 
frozen  and  horrified.  Both  gazed  fixedly  across  the  mesa  to 
where  the  cottonwoods  could  be  seen. 

"Is  Mike  alive  yet?"  Bryant  asked  presently,  m  an  un- 
steady voice. 

"No;  not  now.  I  found  a  piece  of  iron  and  hammered 
the  nails  free.  Then  I  lifted  him  down  and  carried  him  to 
the  creek  and  washed  his  wounds.  But  he  died.  I  see  his 
eyes  yet,  looking  up  at  me."  For  a  little  she  was  overcome. 
Then  she  resumed,  "When  he  was  dead,  I  carried  him  up  to 
your  door,  for  I  knew  you  must  have  loved  him." 

Bryant  glanced  up  at  her. 

"Mike  would  know  you  were  a  friend,"  he  said. 

She  nodded  and  reined  Dick  about.  Leading  the  other 
horse,  she  rode  away  through  the  sunshine  that  burnished 
the  mesa. 


72 


CHAPTER  VIII 

July  passed.  Followed  August,  with  days  likewise  hot 
and  unvarying  except  for  a  scarcely  appreciable  retardation 
of  dawn.  Perro  Creek  now  showed  no  water  at  all  in  its 
shallow  bed;  the  garden  planted  by  the  Stevensons  was  long 
dried  up;  the  sagebrush  was  dustier  than  ever;  and  Bryant 
and  Dave  were  hauling  in  a  barrel  on  a  sledge  water  for  their 
use  from  a  pool  in  the  canon. 

From  daybreak  until  about  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning 
the  engineer  and  his  assistant  worked  on  the  canal  line. 
Bryant  had  run  a  fictitious  survey  along  the  mountain  side, 
staking  it  out  conspicuously  for  any  one  to  see,  to  the  first 
of  the  fenced  claims  of  the  Mexican  homesteaders,  where  it 
ended  as  if  blocked;  but  his  real  line  on  the  mesa  remained 
unstaked. 

To  the  low  ridge,  or  spur  of  ground,  projecting  from  the 
mountain's  base  at  a  point  half  a  mile  south  of  his  right 
of  way  through  the  fields,  where  the  canal  began  its  sweep 
out  upon  the  plain,  he  gave  considerable  time.  The  fall  of 
this  at  first  was  sharp,  and  concrete  drops  would  have  to  be 
constructed  at  intervals  for  a  distance  of  a  mile  or  so  in  order 
to  lower  the  water.  When  this  section  was  left  behind,  he 
advanced  rapidly  along  the  line,  for  the  surface  of  the  gentle 
crescent  swell  was  smooth,  its  grade  fairly  regular,  and  its 
contour  fixed  by  nature.  Essential  points  he  marked  by 

73 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

stones,  with  merely  their  surfaces  exposed,  so  that  if  noticed 
they  would  be  considered  scattered  pieces  of  rock  from  the 
hills.  At  the  proper  time  they  would  constitute  guides  for 
later  staking. 

Evenings  Bryant  spent  in  developing  his  notes  and  in 
making  tracings  of  the  canal  sections  covered.  During  the 
day  hours,  when  he  knew  watchful  eyes  were  on  him,  he 
made  a  topographical  survey  of  his  ranch;  work  that  he 
could  carry  on  openly.  The  five  thousand  acres  comprising 
the  tract  had  a  general  direction  of  east  and  west,  being 
about  four  miles  long  and  two  miles  wide,  which  for  the  most 
part  lay  equally  on  each  side  of  Perro  Creek.  By  using  the 
water  of  this  stream  during  the  flood  season,  a  period  of  some 
weeks  in  spring  and  early  summer,  Bryant  would  be  able 
very  considerably  to  augment  the  supply  from  the  Pinas. 
It  was  necessary  to  join  the  two  sources  in  a  unified  system  of 
laterals  that  would  efficiently  serve  the  tract;  and  therefore 
the  whole  enterprise  required  study,  innumerable  measure- 
ments, calculations  of  dirt  moving,  of  water  distribution,  of 
dam,  weir,  and  gate  construction,  of  soil  analysis — a 
coordination  of  the  thousand  and  one  matters  concerned  in 
an  irrigation  project  that  are  preliminary  to  breaking  ground. 
So  early  and  late  he  toiled,  and  with  him  Dave  Morris. 

The  boy  indeed  did  enough  for  a  man.  And  Bryant 
would  sometimes  arise  from  his  drawing  board  where  he 
worked  after  supper  until  midnight,  to  go  and  affectionately 
gaze  at  Dave  sleeping  the  sleep  of  exhaustion. 

One  afternoon,  when  the  pair  were  at  work  near  the 
southern  boundary  of  the  ranch,  Ruth  Gardner  came  through 
the  sagebrush  to  the  spot,  a  mile  from  Sarita  Creek. 

74 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"I  could  see  you,  just  black  specks,  from  our  cabins;  and 
since  you  don't  visit  us,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  visit  you," 
she  announced.  "I've  noticed  you  down  here  for  two  days 
past.  Days  and  days  have  gone  by  without  you  coming 
to  pay  another  call." 

"Well,  we've  been  sticking  pretty  steadily  at  our  job," 
Bryant  replied.  "Won't  you  use  this  bag  of  stakes  for  a 
seat?  It  will  keep  you  off  the  ground." 

Ruth  accepted  the  proffered  resting  place  and  loosened 
the  thongs  of  her  hat,  inspected  her  face  in  a  tiny  mirror 
produced  from  somewhere,  rubbed  her  nose  with  a  handker- 
chief, and  then  gave  her  attention  to  her  companions. 

"Our  garden  has  grown  splendidly  since  you  fixed  the 
ditch,"  she  said.  "Thanks  to  you.  How  is  yours?" 

"It  has  expired." 

"Then  you  shall  have  things  out  of  ours — if  you'll  come 
get  them.  See,  I'm  using  that  to  decoy  you.  There  are 
beans,  peas,  lettuce,  radishes,  and  new  potatoes,  not  very 
large  yet,  of  course.  I  know  just  what  you're  doing:  work- 
ing hard,  eating  only  canned  stuff,  skimping  your  food,  and 
ruining  your  digestion." 

Bryant  laughed.  Her  tone  had  expressed  indignation, 
while  her  face  was  directly  accusatory. 

"We  seem  to  have  fair  health,  don't  we,  Dave?"  he  re- 
marked. 

"You  look  positively  thin,"  said  she.  "And  as  for  this 
poor  starved  shadow  that  you  call  Dave!  Well,  I  won't 
say  my  thoughts.  For  a  penny  I'd  invite  myself  to  dinner 
at  your  house  just  to  see  what  you  do  have." 

At  this  possibility  both  the  engineer  and  his  young  assis- 

75 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

tant  displayed  signs  of  consternation.  Under  pressure  of 
work  housekeeping  had  been  an  unimportant  trifle  fre- 
quently postponed;  last  meal's  dishes  were  washed  while 
the  next  meal  was  preparing;  clothes  were  left  where  they 
were  carelessly  flung;  and  surveying  tools,  maps,  and  papers 
littered  the  rooms.  No,  it  was  not  a  dwelling  in  which  to 
entertain  a  feminine  guest. 

"Maybe  I  had  better  go  there  and  clear  up  things  some," 
Dave  stated,  uneasily.  And  without  awaiting  a  reply  from 
Bryant,  he  set  off  through  the  sagebrush  for  the  house. 

Ruth  began  to  laugh,  resting  her  cheeks  in  her  hands. 

"That  poor  solemn  boy,  he  took  me  seriously!"  she  ex- 
claimed. "  I  shouldn't  come  alone,  of  course ;  it  wouldn't  be 
proper — and  Imo  would  be  horrified.  Well,  you  may  as 
well  sit  down  and  talk  to  me,  Mr.  Bryant,  for  you  can't 
work  alone,  and  I've  come  to  stay  awhile.  Imogene  told 
me  what  a  nice  talk  she  had  with  you  the  afternoon  I  went 
to  the  ruins,  and  I  hoped  you'd  come  soon  again,  but  you 
never  did." 

"Perhaps  I  haven't  been  exactly  neighbourly." 

He  lowered  himself  to  the  ground  and  sat  cross-legged, 
considering  her. 

"I  thought  that  possibly  I  had  offended  you  in  going  off 
so  abruptly  with  Charlie  Menocal,"  she  said,  with  eyes 
fastened  on  his.  "You  and  he  aren't  very  good  friends. 
I  know " 

"We're  not  friends  at  all;  we're  enemies." 

"That  need  not  keep  you  away  from  us.  He  has  been 
very  civil  and  kind,  but  neither  Imogene  nor  I  have  any 
particular  fancy  for  the  man.  Besides,  I  think  his  chiei 

76 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

interest  in  life  centres  around  a  girl  living  on  Diamond 
Creek,  named  Louise  Graham;  he  hinted  that  they  were 
as  good  as  engaged.  Very  likely  we  shall  see  little  more  of 
him.  So  if  your  dislike  at  meeting  him  is  the  reason  for 
your  staying  away,  you  haven't  a  good  reason  at  all.  Don't 
you  think  Imo  and  I  ever  tire  of  listening  to  each  other? 
Any  two  girls  would,  living  alone  by  themselves.  After 
your  promise  at  the  ford  we  were  delighted — and  how 
many  calls  have  we  had  from  you?  Just  one.  With  me 
away,  too!" 

"To-morrow  will  be  Sunday;  I'll  stop  work  at  noon  and 
come,"  he  declared. 

She  pointed  a  forefinger  at  him  and  wiggled  her  thumb,  in 
imitation  of  a  pistol. 

"Hold  up  your  right  hand  and  swear  it,"  she  commanded, 
"or  I'll  shoot."  She  continued  to  menace  Bryant  while  he 
obeyed.  "  There,  now  you're  safe.  And  bring  that  hungry 
boy  and  we'll  feed  you  both;  this  is  a  dinner  invitation, 
understand.  Now,  tell  me  about  everything." 

"Everything?" 

"All  you're  doing  with  that  three-legged  telescope  and 
these  stakes." 

She  smoothed  her  dress  and  manifested  an  expectant 
interest.  The  impression  Bryant  had  gained  at  the  first 
accidental  meeting  at  Perro  Creek,  of  her  good  looks,  of  her 
vitality  and  irrepressible  spirits,  was  heightened.  As  he 
recollected  his  feeling  of  pique  at  her  visit  with  Charlie 
Menocal  to  the  ruined  pueblo,  he  realized  that  he  had  in- 
dulged in  a  bit  of  senseless,  unwarranted  umbrage;  and  now 
had,  in  consequence,  a  quick  desire  to  make  amends.  It 

77 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

was  as  if  he  must  reestablish  himself  in  her  good  opinion  and 
his  own. 

Their  talk  ran  on  from  topic  to  topic.  The  gaiety  of  her 
comments  pleased  him;  the  youthf illness  of  her  was  irre- 
sistible; and  he  found  himself  observing  the  changing  curves 
of  her  throat  and  cheek  as  she  turned  her  head  a  little  aside 
or  raised  her  chin;  found  himself  watching  for  certain  un- 
conscious attitudes;  awaiting  the  lift  of  her  eyes  to  his, 
harkening  for  particular  tones  of  her  voice.  And  Bryant, 
who,  though  he  knew  it  not,  was  also  athirst  for  companion- 
ship, more  and  more  yielded  to  her  subtle  feminine  attrac- 
tion. "She's  even  prettier  than  I  supposed,"  he  thought. 
Her  lips,  her  nose,  her  eyes  of  deep  gray  with  their  wonder- 
fully long  lashes — each  had  a  particular  charm  of  its  own. 
He  admired  the  grace  of  her  figure.  He  felt  an  odd  surprise 
at  her  apparent  soft  and  pliant  strength,  as  at  a  discovery. 
His  mind  thrilled  with  delight  at  her  laughter. 

"Look  where  the  sun  is!"  she  exclaimed,  all  at  once. 
"Straight  over  our  heads — noon.  Your  David  will  be 
wondering  where  you  are,  while  Imogene  will  imagine  I'm 
lost.  Let  me  pick  a  flower  to  stick  in  the  ribbon  of  your  hat 
and  then  I'll  go." 

"Your  fingers  will  suffer;  I'll  get  some,"  Lee  said,  quickly. 

From  a  spreading  bed  of  prickly-pear  he  plucked  a  dozen 
of  the  cactus  blossoms,  ranging  in  colour  from  a  delicate  lemon 
to  a  deep  orange.  He  turned  to  her. 

"First  I'll  decorate  you,"  he  said.  "Please  assume  an 
angelic  expression  and  gaze  straight  at  the  camera." 

She  tilted  her  chin  upward  and  thrust  her  arms  downward 
with  all  five  fingers  of  each  hand  stretched  apart.  But 

78 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

immediately  she  began  to  laugh.  Lee  gave  her  a  reproving 
tap  on  the  uplifted  chin  and  then  fastened  the  flowers  in  her 
hat-band.  A  thrill  like  fire  ran  through  his  body  at  the 
proximity  of  that  soft,  round  chin,  those  red  lips,  her  eyes 
gleaming  with  merriment. 

"Now,  beauty!"  he  said,  stepping  back. 

The  yellow  blossoms  made  a  garland  about  her  hat. 

"Do  you  like  them  thus? "  she  asked,  delighted. 

"Immensely." 

"Then  they  shall  stay  there.  And  Imo  will  die  of  envy 
when  I  tell  her  they're  yours." 

"Nobody  ever  died  of  that." 

"Perhaps  not.  But  she  will  suffer  extremely.  You 
didn't  even  put  bean  plants  in  her  hat." 

Lee  was  highly  amused  at  this  raillery.  He  began  to 
walk  forward  by  her  side  as  she  moved  away  from  the  spot, 
now  addressing  her,  now  listening  to  her  words,  in  a  desire  to 
stretch  the  last  minute  to  the  uttermost.  Her  head  came 
just  even  with  his  shoulder,  so  that  she  had  to  raise  her  face 
to  gaze  at  him  when  he  spoke,  and  in  the  act  there  was  some- 
thing simple,  winning,  blithe,  as  likewise  in  the  swing  of 
her  lissom  figure  beside  his  own  there  was  an  inimitable 
jauntiness  and  cheer.  He  divined  her  eager,  ardent  spirit; 
and  the  closeness  of  her,  this  comradeship,  set  his  blood 
humming. 

Abruptly  he  halted,  laying  a  finger  on  her  arm. 

"I  mustn't  go  the  whole  way,  you  know,"  he  said," though 
I  should  like  to.  For,  by  heavens,  you've  opened  my  eyes! 
Didn't  realize  how  satiated  with  myself  I'd  become.  But 
I'll  make  up  for  that  now,  Miss  Ruth,  and  it  won't  be  very 

79 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

long  before  you  and  your  friend  will  be  planning  how  to  rid 
yourselves  of  me." 

"Just  try  us  and  see,"  she  exclaimed. 

"  Well,  I  shall.     Till  to-morrow,  then." 

"Till  to-morrow,  yes."  She  moved  forward  some  paces 
and  wheeled  about,  pointing  her  forefinger  at  his  head  and 
working  her  thumb.  "Beware — and  don't  forget!"  Then 
after  another  advance  and  face  about  she  concluded  by 
blowing  him  a  kiss  off  the  palm  of  her  hand,  with  which 
performance  she  did  actually  start  for  home,  weaving  her 
way  through  the  sagebrush  and  going  farther  and  farther 
off. 

"What  a  pretty  little  witch  she  is!"  thought  Lee;  and  he, 
too,  made  his  way  from  the  spot. 

Dave's  hot,  harassed  face  greeted  him  at  the  door. 

"Where  is  she?  Didn't  she  come?"  he  cried,  peering 
about  everywhere.  "Well,  thank  goodness  for  that!  But 
if  that  isn't  the  way  with  a  girl — and  after  I'd  swept  up  and 
made  the  beds  and  scraped  all  the  skillets,  too ! " 


80 


CHAPTER  IX 

That  Sunday  afternoon  at  Sarita  Creek!  The  dinner,  so 
savoury,  so  delectable;  the  two  girls,  arrayed  in  cool  white 
lawn,  rosy-cheeked,  beaming;  the  gay  talk  and  banter  and 
laughter;  the  blissful  hours  together  on  the  grass  beneath 
the  trees,  with  the  wide  mesa  diffusing  an  immense  languor, 
with  the  mountains  bestowing  a  vast  peace,  with  the  brook 
at  their  feet  murmuring  an  accompaniment  to  their  words 
— hours  to  treasure,  hours  of  pure  goldl  Little  wonder  that 
Dave,  lying  full  length  and  gazing  upward  through  the 
boughs  at  the  blue  vault,  allowed  his  eyelids  to  sink  and  at 
last  to  close.  Little  wonder  the  girls'  faces  grew  dreamy  and 
their  voices  gentle.  And  none,  none  at  all,  that  Lee  suc- 
cumbed to  the  spell. 

He  was  still  under  the  enchantment  when  toward  sun- 
set Ruth  suggested  they  go  up  the  canon.  But  Imogene, 
arousing  herself,  declared  that  she  had  letters  to  write;  and 
Dave,  still  fast  asleep,  was  already  on  roamings  of  his  own. 
Ruth  and  Lee  therefore  went  alone  up  the  path  through  the 
trees  and  underbrush,  until  they  emerged  in  the  cool,  dusky 
gorge  formed  by  the  contracting  of  the  rocky  walls.  The 
brook  rippled  by  over  stones  and  moss.  A  few  insects 
hovered  over  the  stream  with  their  tiny  bodies  shining  like 
bronze.  From  somewhere  came  a  sweet,  honeyed  smell  of 
flowers. 

81 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Imo  writes  letters  regularly,"  Ruth  explained  concerning 
her  friend,  "  to  an  instructor  in  a  university  in  the  East. 
I  don't  think  they're  exactly  affianced,  but  expect  to  be. 
Waiting,  apparently.  Waiting  until  he's  a  professor — and 
until  her  health  is  better,  too,  I  imagine.  An  agreement  to 
let  things  rest  as  they  are  for  the  present,  one  might  say. 
Imogene  talks  very  little  about  it,  and  of  course  I  ask  no 
questions." 

She  sat  down  on  a  fallen  tree,  patting  its  trunk  to  signify  a 
place  for  him  at  her  side.  Pointing  at  crevises  in  the  canon 
wall,  she  began  to  tell  him  the  names  she  and  Imogene  had 
given  them — Bandit's  Stair,  Devil's  Crack,  Bear's  Hole, 
and  to  enumerate  those  assigned  the  jutting  points  and 
knobs  along  the  rim  that  by  a  stretch  of  the  imagination 
bore  a  resemblance  to  animals  or  human  heads. 

As  she  talked,  with  her  gray  eyes  at  times  turning  to  his 
to  learn  if  he  was  interested,  he  felt  anew  the  charm  of  her 
youthfulness,  of  her  vivid  personality.  It  dwelt  in  her 
small,  farm  hands  pointing  nowhere,  now  there,  in  her  slender, 
rounded  form  faced  toward  him,  in  her  red  lips,  her  soft 
smooth  cheek,  her  brow,  in  her  glances  and  her  animated 
words.  He  noted  again,  as  a  quality  altogether  delicious, 
the  air  of  unconscious  friendliness  that  he  had  perceived  at 
their  very  first  encounter.  It  quite  offset  the  slight  touch 
of  obstinacy  in  her  chin — but,  in  truth,  did  the  latter  require 
an  offset?  He  had  earlier  thought  that  with  such  a  trait  one 
could  not  foretell  where  its  possessor  might  go,  or  what  do,  or 
what  exact,  under  stress  of  feeling.  He  smiled  at  that  now. 
How  ridiculous  the  notion!  Why  shouldn't  a  girl  have  a 
bit  of  determination  in  her  make-up?  Well,  she  should.  It 

82 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

gave  force  to  her  character.  It  made  her  more  individual, 
more  attractive.  It  coloured  a  nature  so  essentially  feminine 
as  Ruth  Gardner's  with  elusive  and  delightful  possibilities. 

"See,  up  yonder  at  the  top!"  she  exclaimed.  "That 
piece  of  rock  like  a  man's  head  and  shoulders  I  named  Lee 
Bryant,  aftery  ou." 

"Do  I  look  as  block-headed  as  that?" 

"No.  It  was  not  because  of  any  resemblance,  but  be- 
cause you  kept  your  back  so  long  toward  us.  Now,  how- 
ever, since  you've  repented  and  ceased  to  neglect  us,  I  shall 
call  it  after  someone  else.  Perhaps  after  the  stage-driver 
who  takes  our  letters  down  to  Kennard;  he  sits  hunched  up 
like  that.  I'll  seek  a  much  nicer  rock  to  represent  you." 

"That's  wholly  unnecessary,  for  I  intend  to  keep  before 
your  eyes  in  person." 

"Which  will  be  the  nicest  of  all,"  said  she,  smiling. 

He  continued  to  gaze  at  her,  to  listen  to  her  voice,  with  a 
pleasure  he  made  no  effort  to  conceal.  And  she,  on  her  part, 
seemed  to  surrender  herself  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  moment; 
her  eyes  remaining  longer  on  his,  her  tones  softening  to  a 
slow,  tender  utterance  almost  carrying  a  caress,  her  face 
keeping  its  languorous  smile;  as  if  the  honey-sweet  fragrance 
from  the  unseen  flowers  had  invaded  her  spirit. 

A  pause  came  in  their  talk.  They  sat  unmoving,  without 
stir  of  hand  or  head,  quiescent.  Then  Lee  all  at  once  ex- 
perienced a  feeling  of  profound  compassion  for  Ruth  as  he 
regarded  her,  a  poignant  stab  in  his  breast  like  pain.  Sit- 
ting there  without  movement,  with  her  hands  idle  upon  her 
lap,  with  her  face  a  little  lifted  and  her  eyes  wistfully  bent 
on  the  great  wall  opposite,  she  seemed  so  young  and  small  to 

33 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

be  dwelling  at  such  a  place,  so  helpless,  so  solitary,  that  her 
presence  appeared  a  cruel  irony  of  fate.  Her  homesteading 
was  a  desperate  clutch  at  security;  and  her  situation  was 
utterly  different  from  that  of  her  friend,  Imogene  Martin, 
who  viewed  the  matter  as  in  the  nature  of  a  health-seeking 
holiday,  and  who  was  sustained  by  the  knowledge  that  she 
had  wealthy  relations  at  Kennard  to  whom  she  could  return. 
Far  different,  indeed.  At  the  thought  of  the  homesick- 
ness that  at  tunes  Ruth  must  know,  of  the  lonesomeness  of 
mountain  and  mesa  from  which  she  must  suffer,  of  the 
deprivations,  the  hard  bareness  of  the  life,  the  moments  of 
despair,  he  had  a  sensation  of  the  bitter  unfairness  of  things 
and  a  desire  to  snatch  her  safe  away  from  the  harsh  pass  in 
which  she  stood.  It  would  be  only  right,  it  would  be  only 
just. 

When  presently  she  looked  about  and  found  his  eyes 
rapt  on  her  face,  a  quick  blush  spread  over  her  throat  and 
cheeks. 

"  I  think — think  we  should  go  home  now,"  she  said,  with 
a  catch  of  her  breath. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  rising. 

He  leaped  the  log  on  which  they  had  been  sitting  and 
then  put  up  a  hand  to  help  her  mount.  Holding  his  fingers 
she  raised  herself  upon  the  tree  trunk.  But  suddenly  the 
bark  gave  way;  she  slipped,  lost  her  balance,  and  pitched 
forward.  Lee  caught  her  in  his  arms. 

For  an  instant  she  rested  there  in  his  clasp,  her  surprised 
eyes  gazing  into  his.  A  quiver  passed  over  her  form.  Her 
lips  were  parted,  but  she  had  ceased  to  breathe.  Likewise 
in  Bryant's  breast  the  breath  had  stopped.  A  fierce 

84 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

passion  swept  him  to  hold  her  always  thus,  warm  and  close 
and  secure.  His  arms  trembled  at  the  thought;  at  which  her 
eyelashes  began  to  flutter  and  her  breath  to  come  once  more, 
as  hurried  as  the  beat  of  her  heart.  And  then,  yielding 
utterly  to  the  swirl  of  mad  impulse,  he  kissed  her — once, 
twice,  and  twice  again. 

Afterward  he  set  her  on  her  feet. 

"I  guess  that  ends  our  friendship,"  he  said,  with  a  wa- 
vering smile.  "Lost  my  head  altogether.  Couldn't  help 
it.  I  looked  at  you  and — and  it  just  happened.  All  my 
will  and  sense  vanished  in  an  instant.  Bewitched ! " 

The  colour  was  still  in  her  face,  and  her  air  was  uncertain, 
disturbed.  But  at  his  words,  so  palpably  sincere  and  self 
condemnatory,  she  began  to  smile. 

"Perhaps — if  we  just  forget — 

The  smouldering  fire  in  his  eyes  flared  suddenly. 

"Forget?  I'll  never  forget  that  minute,  those  kisses," 
he  exclaimed.  "Hanged  if  I  want  to,  or  will!" 

"If,  then,  we  don't  repeat  them,  and  are  more  circum- 
spect, why,  I'll  overlook  it,"  she  said,  a  little  confusedly. 
"I  know  you  meant  no  discourtesy."  He  gave  a  savage 
shake  of  his  head.  "And  Imogene  and  I  both  prize  your 
friendship." 

"Thank  you,  Ruth.  You  take  an  awful  load  off  my 
heart." 

She  glanced  up  at  him,  now  once  more  composed.  Her 
eyes  gleamed  with  a  veiled  impishness. 

"No  girl  ever  died  from  being  kissed.  But  what  a 
splendid  lover  you  would  make!"  Away  she  darted  a  few 
steps,  to  whirl  and  point  and  waggle  a  finger  at  the 

85 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

dumfounded  youth.  "Are  you  coming?  Because  I  don't 
consider  this  a  wise  place  to  be  with  a  flighty,  irresponsible 
man,  first  name  Lee.  Besides,  it's  beginning  to  grow  dark 
in  here." 

Bryant  joined  her.  The  glow  was  still  in  his  eyes,  but  in 
all  other  respects  he  was  his  usual  self,  calm,  collected. 
Together  they  went  down  the  cool,  dim  canon,  with  its  honey 
scent  of  flowers  drifting  with  them;  and  though  they  talked 
lightly  of  things  of  no  importance,  there  was  a  little  smile  on 
the  lips  of  each  and  sometimes  their  eyes  met,  as  if  sharing  a 
new,  sweet  intimacy. 

Thereafter,  frequent  as  were  Lee's  calls  at  Sarita  Creek  of 
evenings,  he  seldom  had  Ruth  to  himself  and  on  more  than 
one  occasion  had  to  share  her  company  with  Charlie  Meno- 
cal,  much  to  his  impatience.  When  Imogene  sometimes 
succeeded  in  detaining  the  fellow  at  her  side,  Bryant  si- 
lently gave  her  unutterable  thanks.  And  Ruth  seemed 
day  by  day  more  receptive  to  his  passion. 

"I  think  of  only  two  things,  my  canal  and  you,"  he  de- 
clared to  her  one  night. 

"When  you  put  me  first  and  the  canal  second,  why,  who 
knows  what  I  may  think  then?"  she  said,  tantalizingly. 
"But  to  esteem  an  irrigation  ditch  before  me,  the  idea! 
What  if  you  had  to  choose  between  us?  "  And  she  continued 
thus  to  tease  him,  fanning  the  fires  hotter  in  his  breast. 

By  the  end  of  August  Bryant  had  completed  the  survey  of 
the  canal  line  down  to  a  point  where  it  touched  the  northern 
boundary  of  the  ranch,  tapping  the  latter's  system  of  dis- 
tributing ditches.  Pinas  River,  Perro  Creek,  and  the  tract 
to  be  watered  were  thus  united.  Though  later,  doubtless, 

86 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

it  would  be  necessary  to  make  minor  corrections,  as  always, 
the  surveying  was  finished.  One  tracing  showed  the  entire 
irrigation  scheme  from  the  dam  on  the  Pinas  to  the  tips  of 
the  laterals  branching  out  in  a  gridiron  over  the  land. 
There  were  other  tracings,  too,  on  a  larger  scale  and  of  suc- 
cessive sections,  ready  to  be  taken  to  Kennard  in  order  to 
make  blueprints. 

"Town  for  us  to-morrow,  Dave,"  Lee  exclaimed  one  day, 
as  he  rolled  and  tied  his  maps  in  a  waterproof  canvas. 
"  We're  due  for  a  rest ;  our  job  is  done  for  the  present.  We'll 
leave  the  instruments  and  note-books  with  the  girls  at 
Sarita  Creek,  who've  agreed  to  keep  them  until  we  return. 
The  Mexicans  are  still  hanging  around." 

Toward  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  they  appeared  at 
the  cabins,  where  they  disengaged  Dick  from  his  burden  of 
freight  and  turned  him  out  to  graze.  Imogene  was  nursing 
an  obstinate  headache  in  her  darkened  bedroom,  and  Dave 
immediately  settled  himself  under  a  tree  with  a  novel  of  the 
girls'.  So  Ruth  and  Lee  were  left  to  themselves. 

"I'm  going  up  the  creek  to  gather  raspberries,  and  you 
came  just  in  time  to  carry  the  basket,"  said  she.  "I  dis- 
covered a  large  thicket  of  them  half  way  up  the  canon;  the 
more  you  pick,  the  more  you'll  have  for  supper  to-night. 
And  if  you  don't  bring  Imo  and  me  a  box  of  chocolates,  and 
a  big  box,  when  you  come  back  from  wherever  you're  going 
to-morrow,  you  need  never  show  your  lean  brown  face  again 
at  our  doors!  I'm  dying  for  some.  Oh,  Lee,  I  really  am. 
They  help  so  when  one's  lonely." 

The  pathetic  tone  in  which  she  uttered  the  final  words 
sent  Bryant  off  in  a  fit  of  laughter. 

87 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"You  may  count  on  them,"  he  said,  at  length. 

"Your  heart's  of  stone  to  laugh  like  that.  Bonbons  do 
help  when  one  is  low-spirited." 

Nevertheless,  her  spirits  were  high  enough  on  this  after- 
noon. All  the  while  that  they  were  gathering  raspberries 
she  kept  up  a  lively  chatter,  and  when  Lee  suggested,  now 
that  the  basket  was  full,  leaving  it  at  the  spot  and  making 
an  excursion  to  the  head  of  the  gorge,  she  readily  assented. 
The  sun  was  still  far  from  setting;  the  air  between  the  rocky 
walls  was  pleasant;  and  the  canon  held  forth  a  fresh  entice- 
ment. They  walked  for  an  hour,  and  though  they  failed  to 
gain  the  end  of  the  long  mountain  crevice  they  ascended  to 
where  the  springs  that  fed  the  brook  had  their  source,  and 
where  the  rivulet  trickled  over  ledges  and  among  boulders, 
finding  themselves  in  the  heavy  timber  that  forested 
the  upper  mountains.  There  they  sat  on  a  rock,  Ruth 
holding  the  wild  flowers  she  had  plucked  on  the  way,  and 
talked. 

"Does  your  going  now  have  to  do  with  your  project?'' 
she  questioned. 

"Yes;  I've  finished  the  preliminary  work." 

"But  Charlie  Menocal  said  you  were  making  no  progress, 
that  you  were  blocked." 

"What  Charlie  doesn't  know  would  fill  lots  of  space," 
Lee  said.  "In  spite  of  the  Menocals'  opposition  and  tricks, 
I've  established  my  survey — but  don't  breathe  it  yet!  And 
now  I'm  ready  for  the  financing  of  the  scheme.  When 
that's  done,  I'll  begin  actual  work." 

Ruth  considered  him  with  shining  eyes. 

"I'm  glad  you  succeeded;  I  knew  you  would  succeed," 

88 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

she  exclaimed.  "You've  worked  so  hard.  And  I  hope 
that  it  makes  you  famous  and  wealthy." 

"  So  do  I,"  he  laughed.     "  I  need  the  money." 

She  nodded. 

"  One  needs  money  to  be  happy  in  this  world." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  he  responded,  thought- 
fully. "I've  probably  been  as  happy  while  hammering  out 
this  survey  as  I'll  ever  be,  that  is,  happy  in  my  work.  Of 
course,  money  means  comforts  and  luxuries.  But  I  doubt 
if  it  really  ever  brings  contentment." 

The  obstinate  touch  grew  in  her  chin. 

"If  I  had  plenty  of  money  I'd  have  the  contentment,  or 
I'd  soon  find  it,"  she  declared.  "Pretty  clothes,  and  fine 
furniture,  and  automobiles,  and  servants,  and  parties,  and 
so  on,  are  things — at  least  with  women — that  go  a  long  way 
toward  satisfaction.  I  sometimes  don't  blame  girls  who 
marry  rich  old  men;  they  can  put  up  with  them  for  the  pleas- 
ures their  money  will  procure." 

"Ruth,  Ruth,  don't  utter  such  nonsense!  At  any  rate, 
you've  too  much  common  sense  ever  to  waste  yourself  on  a 
doddering  money  bags." 

"I'll  never  have  the  chance,"  said  she.  "But  if  I 
had,  I'd  think  it  over  carefully.  A  young  man  with 
money  I  could  be  especially  nice  to,  and  I  might  even  set 
out  to  catch  him.  You  see,  I'm  quite  frank  and  open 
about  it." 

"  Nonsense,"  he  repeated.  "  You'd  marry  no  one  just  for 
his  money." 

"That  depends  whether  or  not  he  caught  me  at  a  moment 
when  I  was  feeling  sick  of  everything  and  reckless.  Look 

89 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

at  my  hands,  all  calloused  from  work.  If  I  have  to  work,  I 
shall  do  it  for  myself;  not  marry  to  work." 

Bryant  lifted  her  hands  and  regarded  them. 

"They  please  me  immensely  as  they  are;  they're  lovely 
hands,"  he  asserted. 

"Then  your  vision  is  poor." 

"It's  clear  enough  when  I  look  at  you,  Ruth.  And  when 
you  talk  as  you  have,  I  become  impatient  because  I  know 
you  don't  mean  it.  But  nonetheless,  you  deserve  the  best 
that  any  man  can  give,  and  you  ought  to  have  all  the  com- 
forts and  pretty  things  any  woman  has,  for  you're  too  sweet 
and  good  for  a  bare,  commonplace  life."  He  pressed  gently 
the  fingers  he  yet  retained.  "I  told  you  once  that  you  had 
bewitched  me.  It  was  true ;  I  am  bewitched,  have  been  ever 
since  I  touched  your  dear  lips.  And  I  love  you.  It  hurts 
my  heart  to  think  of  you  at  this  homesteading  business " 

"What  else  was  there  for  me?"  she  asked.  "I've  had 
no  business  training,  nothing  but  two  years  in  a  college,  no 
knowledge  of  anything  that  a  girl  needs  to  hold  a  position. 
And  I'm  not  even  a  good  homesteader."  Her  tone  rang 
with  a  trace  of  bitterness. 

"You  ought  not  to  have  to  do  it — and  you  shall  not,  Ruth, 
if  I  have  my  way.  I  want  to  save  you  from  it,  and  make 
life  pleasant  and  happy  for  you.  The  money  I  have  now  is 
little,  but  I'm  going  ahead ;  I'm  going  ahead,  and  nothing  shall 
stop  me,  I  tell  you.  Soon  I  shall  have  ample  means.  Within 
a  year  or  two.  Already  I've  told  you  I  love  you,  though 
this  you  must  have  known,  for  I've  made  no  effort  to  con- 
ceal my  love.  To  me  you're  the  dearest,  sweetest  girl  in 
the  world;  and  all  I  ask  is  the  chance  to  strive  and  toil  for 

90 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

you,  and  make  a  home  for  you,  and  relieve  you  of  anxiety 
and  care,  and  have  you  for  a  joyous  companion  and  mate." 

Ruth  closed  her  hands  on  his,  while  her  eyes  grew  wet. 

"You  mean  it,  Lee?  " 

"Ah,  I  do,  I  do !  I  love  you;  I  hold  you  dearer  than  any- 
thing in  the  world." 

The  smile  she  gave  was  tender,  trustful. 

"I  believe  you,"  she  said. 

She  yielded  to  his  arms.  Her  head  fell  back  upon  his 
shoulder  and  her  look  lifted  to  his  blissfully.  When  he 
kissed  her  a  thrill  of  passionate  desire  answered,  as  when  on 
that  fragrant  evening  in  the  canon  he  first  had  fiercely 
pressed  her  lips.  This  was  happiness — happiness.  If  it 
could  but  last  forever! 

"And  my  love  is  yours,  too,  Lee,"  she  exclaimed,  so 
earnestly  that  he  felt  his  heart  quiver.  "I  want  to  be  happy; 
I  want  to  be  loved;  I  don't  want  to  live  a  life  of  just  dreary 
commonplaceness,  alone,  uncared  for,  with  no  outlook, 
with  no  prospect  of  joys.  I  want  the  most  there  is  in 
happiness — every  girl  wants  that;  and  this  monotonous 
existence  has  been  robbing  me,  stifling  me,  until  sometimes 
I've  been  wild  enough  to  leap  off  a  high  rock.  But  now ! " 

Bryant's  arms  went  closer  about  her. 

"It  shall  be  different  now,"  he  murmured. 

"Yes,  yes;  it  must,  it  shall.  There's  no  sense  in  people 
not  being  happy  when  the  world  was  made  for  that  very- 
purpose." 

"Whenever  you  say,  we'll  be  married,"  Lee  stated. 

Ruth  was  silent  for  a  time,  considering  this.  It,  indeed, 
left  her  a  little  startled. 

91 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"But  it  mustn't  be  too  soon,"  she  replied,  at  last.  "We 
had  best  go  on  as  we  are  while  your  project  is  being  started, 
for  I  wouldn't  be  so  selfish  as  to  make  a  command  on  your 
time  at  a  critical  moment,  Lee  dear.  And  I  must  plan 
clothes  and  things.  Knowing  that  happiness  is  ahead  of 
us,  oh,  homesteading  then  will  be  only  a  lark!  I'll  never 
need  follow  it  up,  but  just  abandon  it  when  we're  ready. 
Kiss  me  again,  Lee,  and  then  we  must  start  back." 

They  retraced  their  steps  down  the  canon,  obtaining  the 
basket  of  berries  on  the  way.  Once,  as  they  neared  the 
cabins,  Ruth  paused,  gazing  at  her  lover. 

"I  had  actually  come  to  hate  these  claims,"  she  said.  "I 
felt  chained  to  the  spot,  as  if  something  would  keep  me  in 
the  miserable  place  for  the  rest  of  my  life.  Had  I  known 
how  lonely  I  should  be  here,  I  never  would  have  come." 

"But  that's  over  now,  Ruth.  A  little  while  longer, 
that's  all." 

She  gazed  at  him  with  an  odd,  intent,  anxious  expression 
upon  her  countenance. 

"You'll  not  let  your  irrigation  project  keep  you  here 
always?"  she  asked.  "Or  live  in  other  places  like  it? 
These  mountains  and  this  desolate  mesa  get  on  my  nerves. 
If  I  thought  you  were  going  to  stay  away  from  other  people, 
foregoing  all  the  pleasures  of  cities  and  the  like,  I  think  I 
ohould  lose  my  courage  and  not  be  able  to  love  you  enough 
to  stand  it.  I  want  you  most  of  all,  but  shall  want  other 
things,  too." 

He  smiled  indulgently. 

"A  few  years  perhaps,"  he  replied.  "Till  I'm  solid  on 
my  feet — till  I  get  going  well — we're  both  young — and 

92 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

then — • —  He  dismissed  the  matter  with  a  wave  of  the 
hand. 

But  that  evening,  when  Lee  and  Dave  had  gone,  when 
Imogene  was  asleep,  when  the  soft  darkness  was  thickening 
over  the  mesa,  Ruth  walked  forth  to  the  edge  of  the  sage- 
brush. 

"I  wonder,"  she  murmured,  leaving  her  thought  un- 
finished. 

The  hush  of  the  mountains,  the  silence  of  the  plain,  the 
vastness,  the  emptiness,  the  seeming  purposelessness  of  it 
all,  irritated  and  oppressed  her  spirit.  And  she  so  yearned 
to  be  where  the  world  was  alive  and  throbbing! 

"I  wonder  if  I  really  love  him  enough,  or  if  I  made  a 
little  fool  of  myself  this  afternoon?"  she  muttered  to  her- 
self. "I  wonder!" 


CHAPTER  X 

Charlie  Menocal's  object  in  calling  upon  the  young  ladies 
at  Sarita  Creek  was  merely  diversion.  He  was  fond  of 
girls,  especially  lively  ones,  and  knew  a  good  many  here  and 
there  within  reach  of  his  motor  car,  including  a  number  of 
pretty  Mexican  maidens  of  humble  parentage.  But  his 
serious  attentions  centred  about  Louise  Graham  of  whom 
in  secret  he  was  very  jealous.  Whenever  he  could  find  an 
excuse,  and  frequently  when  not,  he  went  to  the  Graham 
ranch  on  Diamond  Creek,  five  miles  south  of  the  girls' 
claims,  where  his  figure  was  as  familiar  (and  of  about  as 
much  interest)  as  the  magpies  in  the  pasture.  He  fully 
meant  to  marry  Louise,  whose  beauty  and  gracious  manner 
even  to  the  smallest  bare-legged  Mexican  boy  on  the  ranch 
captivated  him  and  stirred  in  his  breast  a  maddening  desire 
for  possession,  so  that  he  might  cut  off  the  rest  of  the  world 
from  her  sweetness,  so  that  it  might  alone  feed  his  passion. 
Yes,  he  meant  to  have  Louise. 

When  he  was  with  her  his  black  eyes  would  shine  and  a 
ruddy  tinge  appear  in  his  dusky  cheeks  that  were  as  soft  and 
smooth  as  a  Mexican  girl's,  and  he  would  restlessly  finger  a 
point  of  his  little,  silky,  black  moustache  and  feel  unutter- 
able agitations  proceeding  in  his  heart.  Louise  Graham 
did  not  allow  him  to  declare  his  adoration,  which  he  would 
have  done  every  moment  they  were  together;  when  he  tried, 

94 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

she  walked  away.  But  Charlie  counted  on  his  good  looks 
and  his  father's  wealth  to  win  her  in  the  end.  One  fear 
alone  lurked  in  his  heart,  that  some  young  American  might 
come  along  who  would  win  her  interest;  and  earlier  in  the 
summer  he  had  a  decided  uneasiness  lest  Bryant  prove  to  be 
the  man.  The  scoundrelly  engineer,  however,  had  fallen 
head  over  heels  in  love  with  Ruth  Gardner,  so  that  Charlie's 
mind  was  relieved  on  that  point.  To  his  knowledge, 
Louise  and  Bryant  had  never  met — which  was  as  it  should 
be. 

Charlie,  having  stopped  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning 
at  the  Graham  ranch  for  a  chat  with  Louise  while  on  his  way 
to  Kennard,  was  considerably  surprised  and  exceedingly 
nettled  at  beholding  the  engineer,  with  Dave  behind  him  on 
the  horse,  presently  riding  up  the  lane  between  the  rows  of 
cottonwoods.  Young  Menocal  had  persuaded  Louise  to 
leave  her  household  duties  for  the  moment  to  sit  on  the 
veranda  and  talk  with  him.  But  now  had  come  this  im- 
pudent upstart !  Charlie's  warning  of  someone  at  hand  was 
when  Louise  ceased  to  speak  and  gazed  intently  along  the 
lane.  His  annoyance  at  the  interruption  changed  to  a 
quick  jealousy  as  his  companion  rose,  descended  the  steps, 
bade  the  engineer  welcome,  and  extended  her  hand  in 
greeting. 

Bryant  explained  that  he  was  dropping  Dave  here  to 
take  the  stage  for  Kennard  when  it  came  along  after  dinner. 
He  himself  was  riding  on. 

"He'll  eat  dinner  with  us,  of  course,  and  I'll  put  him 
aboard  the  stage  myself,"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  pat  on  the 
shoulder  of  the  boy  who  had  now  dismounted.  "Won't 

95 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

you  stop  for  a  moment,  Mr.  Bryant?  I'll  give  you  a  glass 
of  fresh  buttermilk  to  speed  you  on  your  way;  a  stirrup  cup, 
we'll  call  it.  The  woman  has  just  finished  churning." 

Lee  declared  that  he  would  drink  a  glass  with  very  great 
pleasure.  He  was  thirsty,  he  said,  and  in  addition  was 
fond  of  buttermilk. 

Menocal  listened  and  watched  him  dismount  and  ground 
his  teeth.  Louise  knew  the  thief,  after  all.  Where  the 
devil  had  they  become  acquainted?  It  was  but  one  more 
instance  of  the  engineer's  pushing  in  where  he  wasn't 
wanted.  And  she  had  not  invited  him,  Charlie,  to  partake 
of  buttermilk,  though,  to  be  sure,  she  knew  he  did  not  like 
it.  He  felt  slighted. 

When  Bryant  and  Louise  ascended  the  veranda,  Dave 
loitering  below,  the  engineer  said  nonchalantly,  "Hello, 
Charlie,  how  are  tricks?  Anything  new  up  your  sleeve?  " — 
in  a  way  that  set  the  other's  blood  boiling;  and  when  he 
carelessly  added,  "What  about  that  story  the  stage-driver's 
telling  of  you  and  a  senorita  going  into  a  ditch  with  your  car 
at  Rosita  the  other  night?"  he  was  quite  ready  to  murder 
both  Bryant  and  the  stage-driver. 

So  upset  was  Charlie  that  he  was  unable  to  share  in  the 
conversation.  He  curtly  refused  a  glass  when  Louise 
brought  a  pitcher  of  buttermilk,  then  changed  his  mind, 
and  ended  by  choking  over  the  wretched  stuff.  The 
situation  was  intolerable;  his  pride  was  smarting;  the  others 
talked  on  with  unperturbed  countenances,  ignoring  his 
silence;  and  his  self-respect  required  some  action  in  the  face 
of  the  affront.  He  abruptly  stood  up  and  announced  that 
he  was  departing. 

96 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

In  Louise's  manner  at  this  news  there  was  no  repining 
that  he  could  observe.  She  did  not  protest.  Her  words 
were  impersonally  pleasant  as  ever,  but  vague;  and  he  per- 
ceived that  she  only  half  heeded  his  going;  and  that  her  eyes 
brightened  when  once  more  she  turned  to  her  visitor.  This 
was  the  final  stab.  With  hatred  in  his  heart  and  a  wicked 
glitter  in  his  eyes,  Charlie  Menocal  went  down  the  steps  to 
his  automobile,  feeling  the  need  of  a  victim,  preferably  the 
engineer.  Bryant  had  insulted  him  at  the  ford;  he  was 
attempting  to  rob  him  and  his  father;  he  had  insolently 
threatened  the  elder  Menocal;  he  stopped  at  nothing;  and 
now  he  was  intruding  here  and  deceiving  Louise  with  his 
arrogant  pretentions.  He  came  on  Dave,  standing  beside 
the  car  and  examining  the  latch  of  a  door. 

"Keep  your  hands  off  that!"  he  snapped.  At  the  same 
time  he  gave  the  boy  a  cuff  that  sent  him  sprawling.  "That 
will  teach  you!" 

In  two  bounds  Lee  Bryant  was  at  the  spot.  He  caught 
the  still-extended  hand  in  an  iron  grip. 

"You  miserable  coward!  Striking  a  boy!"  he  said, 
harshly.  "Feeling  that  you  must  vent  your  spite  on  some- 
one, you  pick  on  this  unoffending  lad.  If  you  ever  raise  so 
much  as  a  finger  against  him  again " 

"Let  him  keep  away  from  my  machine!  And  drop  my 
wrist!"  Charlie  Menocal  snarled. 

"And  you  leave  him  alone  hereafter,  in  any  case,"  Lee 
warned,  shoving  the  speaker  away  in  disgust.  Then  he 
helped  Dave  to  rise. 

Charlie  straightened  his  disarranged  tie  and  coat  with 
trembling  fingers.  He  could  scarcely  retain  his  rage;  his 

97 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

body  shook  all  over;  his  foot  slipped  twice  when  he  sought 
to  mount  into  his  car.  Leaning  forward  from  his  seat,  he 
shook  a  finger  in  Bryant's  face,  exclaiming,  "You'll  get 
what's  coming  to  you!  Like  your  damned  dog!"  His 
face  was  entirely  viperish.  His  ringer  came  within  an  inch 
of  the  engineer's  nose.  His  words  carried  a  furious  hiss. 

Then  he  whirled  his  car  about  and  went  tearing  down  the 
lane  with  exhaust  wide  open  and  roaring. 

When  Bryant,  leading  Dave,  rejoined  Louise  Graham, 
a  flush  of  embarrassment  dyed  his  face.  She  had  sprung  up 
at  Menocal's  blow  knocking  the  boy  over  and  remained 
standing,  an  indignant  observer  of  the  scene.  When  Meno- 
cal  had  departed,  the  engineer  recalled  suddenly  what 
Ruth  had  said  concerning  Charlie  and  Louise  Graham  being 
practically  engaged;  and  as  he  now  saw  her  rigid  figure  and 
displeased  countenance,  he  imagined  he  had  lost  her  friend- 
ship. Still,  he  could  not  have  acted  otherwise. 

"I'm  very  sorry  for  this  occurrence,  Miss  Graham,"  he 
said,  contritely.  "Especially  as  I  understand  Charlie 
Menocal  is  very  high  in  your  esteem." 

"Who  dares  say  that!" 

"Well,  Charlie  himself  is  the  authority,  I  believe,"  Lee 
responded,  with  a  slight  smile. 

Her  eyes  flashed  at  that. 

"Well,  it's  not  the  case;  and  if  it  had  been,  this  exhibition 
of  bad  manners  and  bad  nature  on  his  part  would  have 
changed  it.  Father  and  I  consider  him — well,  a  nuisance. 
There,  I'm  giving  you  a  confidence.  We've  tolerated  him 
because  Mr.  Menocal  senior  is  a  gentleman,  and  a  friend. 
Now  I  hope  you'll  not  think  me  too  talkative,  but  an  ex- 

98 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

planation  was  necessary;  and  as  far  as  Charlie  Menocal  is 
concerned,  I'd  be  pleased  if  I  never  saw  his  face  again.  To 
knock  your  young  friend  over  so  heartlessly!  You  treated 
him  with  altogether  too  much  leniency,  Mr.  Bryant." 

"I  never  do  my  fighting  in  the  presence  of  ladies,"  Lee 
remarked,  with  a  grin.  "In  fact,  I  try  to  confine  my  com- 
bats to  those  of  wits." 

She  nodded. 

"Of  course,"  said  she;  and  continued,  "this  is  the  second 
time  he  has  acted  disgracefully  to  you  when  I've  been  by. 
The  first  occasion  was  at  Perro  Creek  ford.  I  could  have 
sunk  into  the  earth  for  shame  of  him  when  he  knew  no  better 
than  to  fling  you  money  after  you  had  filled  his  radiator;  it 
was  pure  insolence,  to  begin  with,  to  ask  you  to  do  it  when 
he  should  have  attended  to  the  matter  himself.  I  admired 
your  conduct  and  self-control  under  the  circumstances,  Mr. 
Bryant."  And  addressing  Dave,  she  asked,  "Will  you 
drink  another  glass  of  buttermilk  if  I  pour  it?  " 

Dave  could  and  did,  an  example  Lee  followed.  The 
subject  of  Menocal  was  dismissed,  and  the  man  and  the 
girl  fell  into  a  conversation  of  general  matters.  She  as- 
sured the  engineer,  when  he  inquired,  that  he  was  not  de- 
taining her  from  household  affairs;  and  urged  him,  on 
learning  of  his  prospective  absence,  to  leave  Dick  at  Dia- 
mond Creek  and  he  himself  to  proceed  to  Kennard  by  stage. 
She  owed  Dick  a  return  for  the  favour  of  carrying  her  home 
that  day  her  own  horse  went  lame;  he  could  run  in  the 
pasture  with  the  other  horses,  where  Bryant  would  know  he 
was  safe.  The  plan  included  Bryant's  remaining  for  dinner, 
naturally. 

99 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Have  I  your  permission,  Dave?"  Lee  asked.  "Or  do 
you  refuse  to  share  this  pleasure  with  me?  " 

Dave  looked  at  Louise  and  blushed  furiously. 

"I  guess  you've  made  your  mind  up,"  he  said,  to  Bryant. 

"I  guess  I  have,"  Lee  admitted. 

Toward  noon  Mr.  Graham  joined  them  and  laughingly 
stated  that  he  was  glad  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  man 
who  was  causing  such  a  furor  among  the  Mexicans  along 
the  Pinas.  He  asked  a  number  of  questions  and  listened 
with  interest  to  the  engineer's  brief  exposition  of  the 
plan  to  unite  the  water  rights  of  the  Pinas  River  and  of 
Perro  Creek  in  a  common  system,  though  Bryant  disclosed 
nothing  of  his  survey  on  the  mesa.  Of  the  opposition  Lee 
had  met  or  might  yet  encounter  the  rancher  was  aware,  for 
he  remarked,  "You  have  a  fight  on  your  hands."  But  that 
was  his  only  comment. 

After  dinner  they  all  continued  to  talk  while  the  men  were 
smoking  cigars.  Graham  suggested  that  if  Bryant  should 
need  an  attorney  it  would  be  well  to  employ  one  from  Ken- 
nard,  as  those  in  Bartolo  were  nearly  all  Mexicans.  The 
engineer  jotted  down  the  name  of  one  the  rancher  recom- 
mended, saying  that  he  had  his  injunction  suits  to  meet  in 
the  September  term  of  court. 

"Winship,  the  sheriff,  appears  to  be  one  man  in  Bartolo 
who's  all  right,"  Lee  stated. 

"Yes,  he's  a  good  man,"  Graham  replied.  "Can't  be  in- 
fluenced or  bought;  and  is  perfectly  square  and  impartial  in 
the  execution  of  the  duties  of  his  office.  He  has  served 
twenty  years,  with  exception  of  one  term  when  he  and 
Menocal  had  a  disagreement.  Menocal  controls  the  votes 

100 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

in  this  county,  you  know;  that's  general  knowledge.  But 
things  became  so  lax  under  the  Mexican  sheriff  who 
displaced  him  that  he  was  put  back  in  office.  Menocal 
ordered  it;  he  has  much  property  and  believes  in  law  and 
order;  and  there's  little  or  no  stealing  with  Winship  in  the 
sheriff's  saddle.  I've  heard  that  he  first  required  the  banker 
to  support  him  unconditionally  before  resuming  the  place." 

"I  can  believe  that  after  a  look  at  Winship,"  Lee  said, 
smiling. 

Mr.  Graham  presently  went  away  to  a  field  where  his  men 
were  cutting  and  stacking  alfalfa,  after  thanking  Bryant  for 
rendering  assistance  to  his  daughter  on  the  road  and  inviting 
him  to  call  again.  Louise  then  showed  him  her  flower 
garden,  ablaze  with  poppies,  nasturtiums,  sweet  peas,  and 
other  blossoms  he  could  not  name;  and  the  orchard  where 
apples  and  pears  and  plums  weighed  the  branches.  She 
was  remarkably  beautiful,  he  thought;  and  was  quite  sure 
the  roses  in  the  garden  had  no  petals  pinker  or  softer  than 
her  cheeks,  and  was  sure  the  water  rippling  in  the  little, 
grassy  orchard  canals  was  no  clearer  than  her  brown  eyes, 
or  the  sky  more  serene  than  her  brow.  She  was  not  in  the 
least  proud  or  vain  or  haughty,  as  he  imagined  when  he  first 
beheld  her  at  the  ford.  He  had  had  doubts  of  that  after 
her  kindly  treatment  of  his  dying  dog  Mike.  And  now  to- 
day he  knew  that  such  an  opinion  did  her  an  injustice,  was 
absurd. 

Louise,  too,  was  thinking  as  they  strolled  about.  Which 
of  the  two  girls  on  Sarita  Creek  did  he  love?  For  Charlie 
Menocal  had  said  that  he  was  infatuated  with  one.  Charlie 
Menocal!  Her  cheeks  grew  warm.  What  he  had  boasted 

101 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

in  regard  to  herself,  and  doubtless  Mr.  Bryant  had  softened 
the  truth,  filled  her  with  anger.  She  would  treat  the  in- 
sufferable wretch  differently  hereafter.  And  very  likely  his 
gossip  of  the  engineer's  feelings  for  one  of  the  homesteaders 
was  likewise  a  faisehood,  though  there  was  no  reason  in  the 
world  why  Mr.  Bryant  shouldn't  love  one  of  them  if  he  chose. 
She  had  never  met  them.  They  were  very  nice  girls,  she 
imagined.  She  had  intended  to  call,  but  something  had 
always  prevented.  As  for  Mr.  Bryant,  he  seemed  a  very 
estimable  young  man,  and  good  company,  and  an  engineer 
of  ability  and  will. 

She  continued  to  speculate  after  he  and  Dave  had  de- 
parted on  the  stage,  with  a  vague  sense  of  missing  them. 
That,  she  reasoned,  was  because  Lee  Bryant  had  "person- 
ality." And  presently  her  thoughts  followed  him.  Lee's 
mind,  however,  was  ranging  back  to  Sarita  Creek;  but 
Dave's  was  loyally  with  the  lady  of  Diamond  Creek  ranch, 
as  was  manifest  when  he  murmured  thickly,  having  fallen 
asleep  during  the  warm  ride: 

"No  more  chicken,  thank  you — or  jelly — or  apple  pie." 


102) 


CHAPTER    XI 

In  Kennard  next  morning  Lee  Bryant  betook  himself  to  a 
civil  engineering  firm,  which  he  engaged  to  print  a  number 
of  sets  of  blue-prints  from  his  tracings,  one  set  to  be  ready 
for  delivery  early  that  afternoon.  Then  while  his  suit  of 
gray  clothes,  from  out  of  his  suit-case,  was  being  pressed,  he 
and  Dave  visited  a  florist,  purchased  a  wreath  of  lilies-of-the- 
valley  that  Dave  chose,  and  went  to  the  cemetery  to  place 
it  on  the  grave  of  the  lad's  mother.  After  that  they  pro- 
ceeded to  a  clothier's,  where  the  boy  was  fitted  out  with  a 
new  suit,  a  hat,  shirts,  underwear,  and  a  tie.  All  of  this 
caused  Dave  to  swallow  hard — but  he  swallowed  hardest  of 
all  when  Lee  led  him  to  a  horse-dealer's  and  helped  him 
pick  out  a  pony  for  trial,  a  gift  from  Bryant.  He  hadn't  ex- 
pected all  this.  He  was  too  overcome  to  speak.  "By 

golly,   Lee,  I — I "   he  stammered;  and  stopped,  and 

furtively  wiped  the  moisture  from  his  eyes.  Finally  they 
visited  a  savings-bank,  where  the  engineer  deposited  a  check 
to  Dave's  credit,  his  wages  for  a  month  and  a  half,  forty- 
five  dollars,  to  start  an  account,  and  the  boy  received  a 
small  yellow  book  whose  one  entry  he  thereafter  studied 
at  frequent  intervals,  for  it  was  earning  according  to 
Bryant's  statement  four  per  cent  a  year,  though  Dave 
had  not  the  remotest  idea  of  how  it  did  the  earning. 
Then  with  all  this  business  transacted  they  returned  to 

103 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

the  hotel,  bathed,  dressed  in  their  fresh  clothes,  and  went 
into  luncheon. 

"Luncheon,  what  do  they  call  dinner  that  for?"  Dave 
whispered  to  Lee  across  the  table. 

Along  in  the  afternoon  Bryant,  having  obtained  a  set  of 
blue-prints  and  sent  his  young  companion  to  a  "movie" 
show,  called  upon  the  man  that  he  all  the  while  had  had  in 
view,  Imogene  Martin's  uncle.  A  large,  strong-bodied  man, 
with  a  deeply  lined,  determined  face,  the  latter  swept  his 
visitor  with  a  quick,  appraising  look,  invited  him  to  take 
a  seat,  and  to  state  his  business. 

"In  five  minutes  you  can  tell,"  said  Lee,  "whether  or  not 
you  wish  to  listen  longer  to  my  proposition." 

"Yes." 

"I  now  own  the  Perro  Creek  ranch,  of  five  thousand  acres. 
It  was  originally  owned  by  Mr.  Menocal,  of  Bartolo,  but 
recently  by  a  man  named  Stevenson,  from  whom  I  bought 
it." 

"  I  know  the  place,  Mr.  Bryant.    Proceed." 

"It's  worth  possibly  three  dollars  an  acre  as  it  stands, 
or  a  total  of  fifteen  thousand  dollars,"  Lee  continued. 
"But  it  has  an  unused  water  right  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  second  feet  from  the  Pinas  River,  sufficient  to 
water  the  whole  tract.  How  much  will  the  ranch  be  worth 
when  water  is  actually  delivered?  " 

"A  good  deal  more  than  fifteen  thousand  dollars." 

"Rather,"  said  the  engineer,  smiling.  "The  appropri- 
ation was  secured  from  the  state  by  Mr.  Menocal  thirty 
years  ago ;  it's  never  been  cancelled,  and  is  good  to-day.  He, 
however,  has  been  using  the  water  on  ranches  he  owns  down 

104 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

the  river.  A  canal  from  the  Pinas  along  the  mountain  sides 
to  Perro  Creek  would  be  expensive  to  construct,  possibly 
prohibitive;  it  appears  the  natural  line;  and  I  suppose  this 
deterred  him.  I've  located  a  new  and  practical  course  for  a 
ditch  on  the  mesa,  have  surveyed  and  mapped  it  in  detail, 
calculated  the  cost,  and  compiled  a  statement  of  estimates, 
and  can  build  the  project  for  sixty  thousand  dollars.  The 
tract  of  five  thousand  acres  can  then  be  sold  for  fifty  dollars 
an  acre,  or  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars.  Shall  I 
stop,  or  do  you  wish  to  hear  more?" 

Now  it  was  the  banker's  turn  to  smile.  This  visitor  knew 
how  to  make  a  point. 

"  Go  ahead,"  he  said. 

"All  right.  A  Mexican  dam  across  the  Pinas,  a  mile  and 
a  half  of  hillside  canal,  some  concrete  drops,  twelve  miles  of 
curving  mesa  ditch,  and  the  ranch  is  reached.  In  addition, 
the  flood  water  of  Perro  Creek  can  be  utilized;  I've  worked 
this  out,  as  well  as  the  entire  system  of  laterals  for  the  land. 
As  stated,  the  cost  of  the  whole  project  will  be  about  sixty 
thousand  dollars,  present  price  of  material  and  labour.  I'm 
on  my  way  now  to  the  capital  to  file  application  for  a  change 
in  the  present  canal  line,  which,  since  it  involves  only  govern- 
ment land,  will  naturally  be  allowed.  Of  course  Mr.  Meno- 
cal  isn't  taking  kindly  to  my  proposed  use  of  this  water." 
And  Lee  paused. 

"What  has  he  done?    Anything  yet?" 

"Not  much  so  far,  except  a  little  futile  skirmishing,"  the 
engineer  remarked,  with  twinkling  eyes.  "When  I  paid  off 
his  mortgage  on  the  land,  I  advised  him  that  I  should  use 
the  water:  and  he  threatened  to  have  the  water  right  can- 

105 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

celled.  But  he  backed  up  on  that  line  when  I  promised  to 
lodge  him  in  jail  for  making  false  affidavits  if  he  tried  those 
tactics.  Thought  I'd  head  him  off  in  that  direction  at  the 
start.  I  got  the  jump  on  him  there.  Well,  now,  he's  using 
indirect  means  to  keep  control  of  the  water,  sending  half  a 
dozen  Mexicans  to  file  claims  at  the  base  of  the  mountains 
where  he  imagines  the  canal  will  have  to  go.  He  thinks 
these  have  blocked  me;  and  I  didn't  undeceive  him.  He 
knows  nothing  about  my  actual  line  of  survey  on  the  mesa. 
Of  course,  the  loss  of  this  water  that  he  fancied  he  had  hits 
him  where  it  hurts,  but  from  what  I  can  gather  Mr.  Menocal 
isn't  a  man  to  resort  to  illegal  methods.  He's  wily,  that's 
about  all.  So  that's  the  situation." 

The  banker  regarded  Bryant  for  a  time  with  a  non- 
committal face. 

"  State  your  proposition  now,"  said  he. 

"This  is  it,"  Bryant  went  on.  "I  propose  to  bond  the 
ranch  and  water  right  for  enough  to  build  the  project,  then 
construct  it,  then  market  the  land  in  farms  at  fifty  dollars  an 
acre.  The  canal  system  can  be  completed  easily  next  year, 
and  sales  and  colonization  proceed  immediately  when  done. 
Naturally,  as  a  sale  is  made,  the  mortgage  and  notes  will  be 
put  up  behind  the  bonds  to  secure  the  latter.  The  pur- 
chasers will  pay  down  some  cash,  say,  ten  dollars  an  acre; 
that  makes  fifty  thousand  cash  and  two  hundred  thousand 
dollars  in  notes  against  sixty  thousand  dollars  in  bonds.  A 
visible  profit  of  one  hundred  and  ninety  thousand.  That 
amount  will  be  covered  by  a  stock  issue.  I  shall  set  aside 
sixty  thousand  of  it  as  a  bonus  to  whoever  purchases  the 
bonds.  Thirty  thousand  more  shall  go  to  whoever  markets 

106 


THE    IRON    FURROV7 

the  bonds,  as  a  commission.    The  remaining  hundred  thou- 
sand of  stock " 

"  Goes  to  you,  I  presume." 

"Yes;  I  keep  that.  It's  payment  for  the  ranch  and 
water  right,  for  my  developing  the  scheme  and  building  the 
project.  What  I  need  is  someone  to  sell  the  bonds;  I'll  take 
care  of  everything  else.  And  because  you,  Mr.  McDonnell, 
know  the  character  of  the  land  hereabouts  and  know  water 
rights,  the  fertility  of  the  soil  when  watered,  and  the  sound- 
ness of  a  proper  irrigation  project  as  an  investment,  I've 
come  first  to  you.  Millions  aren't  involved;  it's  a  small 
project;  the  cost  is  uncommonly  cheap  and  the  security 
therefore  exceptional;  you  know  the  property  personally; 
I,  as  builder,  and  having  everything  at  stake,  would  see  that 
the  construction  is  right.  So  small  an  issue  of  bonds  should 
be  quickly  placed  in  the  East.  And  the  commission  isn't  to 
be  sneezed  at." 

Mr.  McDonnell's  features  relaxed  into  a  smile. 

"I  never  saw  an  irrigation  scheme  yet  that  didn't  look  a 
money-maker  on  paper,"  he  stated,  "nevertheless,  seventy- 
five  per  cent,  of  them  wind  up  in  the  hands  of  a  receiver." 

"Because  of  faulty  estimates  and  wasteful  construction, 
yes.  Because  they're  generally  too  big,  and  the  interest  eats 
them  up  before  the  land  is  sold.  Because  some  start  build- 
ing on  a  shoestring.  Or  because  of  changes  in  the  projects 
that  are  costly,  or  rows  in  the  management,  or  insufficient 
water,  or  bad  land  titles — I  know,  I  know.  I've  studied 
and  analyzed  their  troubles.  And  I  propose  that  this  Perro 
Creek  scheme  of  mine  shall  be  one  irrigation  project  that 
shall  succeed." 

107 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"And  you  think  you've  taken  all  precautions?" 

"Yes." 

"With  Mr.  Menocal,  even?" 

"Even  with  Mr.  Menocal,  yes.  Once  my  application  for 
changes  has  been  approved  and  I  have  the  money  to  build, 
what  can  he  do?  " 

"You  seem  quite  sure  of  yourself." 

"I'm  sure  of  this  irrigation  project,  anyway.  I'm  going 
to  build  it."  Conviction  absolutely  dominated  his  lean 
brown  face;  and  the  banker  looking  at  the  speaker's  chin, 
his  firm  mouth,  curving  nose,  and  gray  eyes  full  of  purpose, 
wondered  if  Menocal  had  met  his  match. 

"Well,  suppose  you  leave  your  maps  and  estimates  for 
me  to  look  over,"  he  said.  "When  do  you  go  to  the 
capital?" 

"This  evening." 

"  See  me  again  on  your  return.  My  attorney  will  examine 
your  title  to  the  land  and  the  water  right.  How  are  the 
young  ladies  on  Perro  Creek  getting  along?  " 

"They  have  plenty  of  fresh  air  and  scenery,"  Lee  re- 
sponded, relaxing  from  the  tension  under  which  he  had  been. 

"It  was  rather  a  wild  notion,  their  taking  claims,  but  they 
wanted  the  experience.  I  hope  my  niece  is  benefited  in 
respect  to  her  health.  My  wife  and  I  run  up  once  in  a  while 
to  see  if  they're  comfortable."  Then  he  added,  "Perhaps 
I  had  best  confess  that  Imogene  had  told  me  of  what  you  were 
at  up  there,  and  of  your  involvement  with  Mr.  Menocal. 
So  this  thing  isn't  wholly  new  to  me." 

Bryant  returned  to  the  hotel,  well  satisfied  with  the  prog- 
ress he  had  made.  In  the  lobby  of  the  hotel  he  ran  across 

108 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Charlie  Menocal,  who  gave  him  a  venomous  look  and  passed 
into  the  bar  without  speaking.  What  the  young  fellow 
might  feel  or  think  gave  Lee  no  concern,  though  he  might 
have  taken  warning  from  that  hostile  regard.  For  it  was 
by  Charlie's  instructions  that  a  short,  stout,  swart  Mexican 
went  from  a  native  saloon  to  the  depot  that  evening,  where 
he  presently  identified  Bryant  and  lounged  nearer  the  spot. 
Dave  at  length  noticed  him  and  called  Lee's  attention  to  the 
fellow,  whose  face  had  a  particularly  sinister  cast  and  whose 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  engineer  in  a  stony,  unblinking  stare. 
That  look  gave  one  the  sensation  of  being  gazed  at  by  some- 
thing poisonous  in  a  clump  of  sagebrush.  But  the  feeling 
was  forgotten  when  the  train  came  in  on  which  they  were  de- 
parting and  Bryant  and  Dave  mounted  the  steps  of  a  coach. 

The  Mexican,  on  his  part,  returned  to  the  saloon,  where 
eventually  he  was  joined  by  Charlie  Menocal.  Charlie's 
face  was  flushed  and  his  breath  alcoholic;  he  was  a  little 
drunk.  At  a  corner  table  they  conferred,  drinking  whisky. 

"You  will  know  him  now,  the  snake! "  Charlie  asked. 

"I  would  know  him  in  the  dark,  sefLor,"  was  the  reply. 

They  spoke  in  Spanish,  since  young  Menocal's  companion 
knew  no  other  tongue.  The  latter  was  a  newcomer  to 
Kennard,  of  the  name  of  Alvarez.  He  had  come  up  from 
across  the  line,  where  he  had  been  first  with  Carranza,  and 
then  with  Zapata  in  his  black  troop,  and  then  with  Pancho 
Villa.  He  already  had  considerable  reputation  in  the  low  Mex- 
ican quarter  of  the  town:  he  had  participated  in  many  fights 
and  raids  "down  there";  he  was  fearless;  he  could  use  a  gun; 
he  had  many  killings  to  his  credit.  When  earlier  in  the  day 
Charlie  had  made  private  inquiry  of  the  saloon-keeper,  an  old 

109 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

friend,  concerning  a  man  of  nerve  that  he  could  engage  who 
would  ask  no  questions,  Alvarez  was  pointed  out  to  him. 

Presently  an  agreement  was  reached  between  them  and 
Charlie  produced  his  check-book  and  a  fountain-pen. 

"Here's  a  check  for  one  hundred  dollars,"  he  said,  writing. 
"Come  to  Bartolo,  get  you  some  blankets  and  food,  and 
camp  somewhere  near.  From  time  to  time  we'll  meet  and 
I'll  tell  you  what's  to  be  done.  There's  a  saloon  at  Bartolo, 
if  you  get  thirsty.  Another  hundred  dollars  will  be  yours 
when  the  job  is  finished,  perhaps  more.  Meantime,  you  will 
act  before  others  as  if  you  did  not  know  me.  Here's  the 
check." 

Alvarez  rose  and  walked  to  the  bar. 

"Is  this  money;  a  hundred  dollars?"  he  inquired  of  the 
Mexican  proprietor  of  the  saloon. 

"One  hundred  dollars,  yes,"  said  the  latter,  with  an 
assuring  smile.  "Made  payable  to  you,  Alvarez.  Good? 
Good  at  any  bank,  good  here  at  my  saloon,  good  as  gold. 
Better  than  gold,  Alvarez,  because  easier  to  carry.  Do  you 
wish  the  money  for  it?  " 

The  Mexican  ex-bandit  jingled  some  dollars  in  his  trou- 
sers' pockets. 

"  I  have  enough  to  eat  and  drink,"  said  he.  "  If  the  paper 
is  good,  if  you  will  give  me  gold  for  it,  then  I  will  wait  until 
I  return.  As  you  say,  it's  not  so  heavy  to  carry." 

"Bring  it  to  me  when  you  return.  Mr.  Menocal  is  very 
wealthy,  very  rich.  He  has  much  land  and  many  sheep. 
Besides,  he  owns  a  bank  full  of  gold  and  silver.  The  paper  is 
good." 

Alvarez  was  impressed.     He  stood  in  thought. 

no 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Those  sheep  and  that  bank  full  of  money!  In  Mexico 
we  would  form  a  company  of  revolutionists  and  help  our- 
selves," he  said. 

"That  isn't  the  custom  here,"  was  the  reply. 

Alvarez  again  stared  at  the  check,  then  folded  it,  bit  the 
edge  with  his  teeth,  placed  it  in  a  small  leather  bag  suspended 
under  his  shirt  by  a  cord  about  his  neck,  and  returned  to 
the  table  where  Charlie  Menocal  waited. 

"I  will  go  up  yonder  in  a  few  days,  senor,"  he  stated. 
"There  are  girls  there,  are  there  not?" 

One  day  a  week  later,  after  Bryant  and  Dave  had  returned 
to  Kennard,  and  after  numerous  conferences  with  Mr. 
McDonnell,  his  attorney  and  an  engineer  called  in  for 
consultation,  Lee  exclaimed  to  his  companion,  "We  win. 
McDonnell  will  take  hold  of  it.  Bully  for  him!"  And  he 
went  about  clearing  up  the  odds  and  ends  of  business  at  a 
great  rate. 

Moreover,  McDonnell  believed  he  could  dispose  of  the 
bonds  within  a  fortnight,  by  the  middle  of  September. 
That  would  enable  Bryant  to  make  good  headway  with  the 
dam  on  the  Pinas  River  while  the  water  was  low  and  before 
cold  weather  set  in.  The  attorney  would  look  after  the 
incorporation  of  the  company  and  the  stock  and  bond  issues. 
Lee  could  at  once  engage  a  staff  of  assistant  engineers  and 
arrange  to  let  the  building  contract.  In  the  matter  of  the 
canal  line,  he  had  received  ample  assurance  from  members  of 
the  Land  and  Water  Board  at  Santa  Fe  that  the  changes 
he  asked  would  be  granted.  Everything  was  propitious, 
everything  exactly  as  he  would  wish. 

in 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Out  of  those  town  duds,  Dave,"  he  exclaimed.  "You 
can't  be  a  sport  any  longer.  Back  to  Perro  Creek  for  us 
and  your  new  spotted  pony.  And  it's  high  time,  too,  for  I 
saw  you  making  eyes  at  that  girl  with  yellow  hair  and 
angel  blue  eyes,  whose  mamma " 

"You  never  did!"     Dave  yelled,  crimson  with  ire. 


112 


CHAPTER    XII 

October.  And  the  last  golden  leaves  twirling  down  from 
cottonwood  and  aspen  and  mountain  maple;  the  lofty  brown 
peaks  fresh  powdered  with  snow;  the  air  dazzling,  keen, 
heady  like  wine;  frost  a-sparkle  of  mornings  on  stone,  fence- 
post,  roof,  with  a  rainbow  coruscation  of  diamonds;  clear, 
high  moons;  marvellous,  moonlit  nights. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  month.  Three  weeks  previous, 
with  the  bonds  sold  and  the  injunction  suits  dismissed,  the 
contractor  employed  had  unloaded  his  outfit  at  Kennard, 
moved  up  the  Pinas  River,  raised  in  a  day  his  camp  at  the 
mouth  of  the  canon  above  B  artolo,  and  begun  his  task.  This 
man,  Pat  Carrigan,  had  been  in  Bryant's  mind  from  the 
first:  a  Pueblo  contractor  of  Irish  extraction,  born  in  a  rail- 
road camp,  trained  on  a  dump,  and  now  grizzled  and  aging 
but  unequalled  in  handling  men,  in  keeping  them  satisfied, 
in  moving  dirt.  In  his  time  he  had  turned  off  jobs  from 
Maine  to  California,  from  Wisconsin  to  Texas.  Already 
along  the  hillside  a  yellow  gash  was  deepening  from  the  dam 
site  through  the  fenced  fields  where  ran  the  right  of  way; 
while  in  the  Pinas,  low  at  this  season,  the  traverse  section  of 
the  river  bed  had  been  cleaned  out  and  the  base  of  the  dam 
was  building  of  stones  and  brush. 

Late  on  a  certain  afternoon  Ruth  Gardner  and  Imogene 
Martin  stood  waiting  by  a  gray  runabout  at  the  edge  of  the 

"3 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

camp.  A  storm  was  sweeping  up  the  Ventisquero  Range 
from  the  south,  one  of  the  autumn  storms  that  marked  the 
change  of  seasons,  enveloping,  as  it  advanced,  the  gray  peaks 
one  after  another  in  its  fog  and  trailing  over  the  mesa  gauzy 
brown  streamers  of  rain.  In  the  west  the  sun  still  shone  un- 
obscured,  but  with  its  light  failing  to  a  chill  saffron  glare  as 
the  cloud  expanded  over  the  sky. 

Bryant  and  another  man,  a  newcomer  in  the  last  few  days, 
an  engineer  from  the  East  representing  the  bondholders, 
were  walking  toward  the  girl  from  the  dam.  As  the  men 
walked,  they  engaged  in  rather  spirited  argument. 

"You'd  better  hurry,  you  two,"  Ruth  called.  "Don't 
you  see  that  rain  coming?  Imo  and  I  want  to  reach  home, 
Mr.  Gretzinger,  without  being  soaked." 

Bryant's  companion  waved  an  assuring  hand  without 
ceasing  his  rapid  and  forceful  statement  addressed  to  his 
fellow.  Half  a  head  shorter  than  Lee,  he  was  of  stockier 
build,  a  man  somewhere  near  thirty-five  or  six  years  of  age, 
with  hair  tinged  with  gray  above  his  ears.  Both  in  manner 
and  speech  he  exhibited  by  turns  superficial  gayety,  latent 
cynicism,  and  an  egregious  assumption.  When  Lee  had  in- 
troduced him.  to  the  young  ladies  at  Sarita  Creek,  he  had 
made  himself  at  home  in  three  minutes.  He  had  the  latest 
witticisms  of  restaurants  and  theatres,  the  newest  stories, 
the  most  recent  slang;  his  clothes  were  of  the  autumn's  ex- 
treme mode;  he  was  intelligent  if  frankly  materialistic;  and 
he  interested,  amused,  and  diverted  the  two  girls.  From 
his  gay  and  airy  talk  they  gathered  that  he  had  been  married 
and  divorced,  that  the  West  might  have  the  scenery  but 
New  York  had  the  bright  lights;  that  money  could  buy  any- 

114 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

thing  from  food  to  fame;  and  that  "movies"  were  a  bore. 
To  the  girls  he  was  like  a  breath  from  the  metropolis  itself, 
that  hard,  throbbing,  restless,  glaring,  convivial,  avid, 
fascinating  city  in  which  is  centred  everything  of  wealth  and 
misery,  everything  intense  and  abnormal,  and  everything  to 
satisfy  the  desires.  But  the  effect  upon  the  girls  was  differ- 
ent. Imogene,  though  entertained,  continued  calm,  un- 
impressed, unenvious;  Ruth,  however,  as  she  listened  and 
asked  questions,  the  better  they  became  acquainted,  was 
bright-eyed  and  excited.  "Don't  you  think  him  a  remark- 
able man?"  she  had  exclaimed  to  Imogene.  "So  experi- 
enced, so  polished,  so — well,  everything."  This  was  after 
his  second  visit,  which  he  made  without  Bryant,  stopping  on 
his  way  from  the  dam  camp  to  Kennard  where  he  made  the 
chief  hotel  his  headquarters.  Imogene  had  replied,  "Oh, 
he's  amusing  company,  and  he  can't  be  accused  of  being 
diffident,  at  least.  But  I  wonder  if  he  would  wear  well. 
His  divorced  wife's  opinion  would  be  valuable  on  that  point, 
I  fancy."  That  had  caused  Ruth  to  sniff.  She  said,  "You 
heard  his  explanation;  they  didn't  agree  and  so  they  just 
separated.  That  was  sensible.  When  two  people  find 
they're  not  compatible,  they  shouldn't  live  together  a 
minute.  And  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  she  was  a 
cat." 

Gretzinger's  speech  as  he  and  Bryant  advanced  toward 
the  girls  and  the  gray  runabout  was  quick,  determined,  and 
uncompromising.  His  fleshy,  aggressive  face,  that  lacked 
the  tan  of  his  companion's,  was  fixed  in  dogmatic  lines. 
From  time  to  time  he  switched  his  gauntlets  against  the 
skirt  of  his  fashionably  cut  ulster  with  lively  impatience. 

"5 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"I  certainly  demand  that  these  changes  be  made  and  shall 
recommend  to  the  bondholders,"  he  was  saying,  "that  they 
also  insist  on  them." 

"Can't  help  it  if  you  do,"  was  Lee  Bryant's  reply.  "I 
know  what  I'm  talking  about:  concrete  is  necessary.  No 
irrigation  engineer  to-day  who  knows  his  business  would 
think  of  anything  else.  Mr.  McDonnell's  man  approved  its 
use,  the  state  engineer  likewise.  The  latter  wouldn't  allow 
the  change  even  should  I  ask  it." 

"Pah!  He'd  not  concern  himself  either  way.  I  know 
how  these  state  officers  run  things.  Leave  it  to  me;  I'll 
arrange  the  matter." 

"Not  with  my  consent.  And  he'll  never  grant  the  change 
over  my  opposition." 

Gretzinger  gave  his  knee  an  angry  slap. 

"I  tell  you  it  must  be  different,  Bryant.  In  addition 
to  the  bonds  my  men  have  their  share  of  stock.  They  con- 
sider this  stock  bonus  as  part  of  their  investment.  It  is. 
And  they  intend  to  see  that  that  stock  earns  every  dollar — 
every  dollar,  do  you  understand? — that's  to  be  made  out  of 
the  project.  I'm  here  to  protect  their  interests,  and  shall 
doit." 

"Well?" 

"Now,  Bryant,  be  reasonable.  It  means  more  profit  in 
your  own  pocket,  too.  You're  no  philanthropist  pure  and 
simple,  I  take  it,  and  want  to  make  money  out  of  this  thing. 
So  agree  to  this  change.  You'll  make  a  saving  both  in  time 
and  cash.  Carrigan's  contract  doesn't  include  the  building 
of  these  drops;  you  plan  to  do  that  yourself;  and  if  you  sub- 
stitute wood  for  concrete  in  these  drops  and  in  the  gate- 

116 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

frames,  it  would  lessen  the  labour  cost,  the  material  cost, 
the  freighting  cost,  the " 

"And  in  five  years  the  wood  will  have  rotted  and  then 
concrete  will  have  to  be  put  in  after  all,"  Lee  interrupted. 
"More  than  that,  the  water  will  undercut  wooden  drops, 
then  rip  the  devil  out  of  the  canal  along  the  ridge,  making 
the  cost  of  rebuilding  ten  times  what  it  is  now  and  very  likely 
causing  a  water  shortage  in  the  middle  of  an  irrigating 
season  so  that  the  farmers'  crops  will  be  a  dead  loss.  Fine! 
I  suppose  you  didn't  allow  yourself  to  think  that  far." 

"Why  should  I?"  Gretzinger  retorted.  "It's  not  our 
business  to  figure  on  all  the  calamities  that  may  occur  in  the 
next  fifty  years,  or  the  next  ten,  or  the  next  five.  We  build 
the  canal,  then  it's  up  to  the  farmers  to  keep  it  in  shape  after 
we  turn  it  over  to  them.  If  anything  happens,  that's  their 
lookout  and  the  lookout  of  the  engineer  in  charge." 

The  two  had  come  to  a  halt  just  out  of  earshot  of  the  run- 
about. Bryant  could  discover  on  the  speaker's  face  no  other 
expression  than  a  fixed  intent  to  maintain  his  view. 

"Leaving  out  the  injustice  of  such  a  course " 

"Injustice,  nothing!"  the  New  Yorker  derided.  "This 
is  cold  business.  The  project  must  be  built  as  cheaply  as 
possible  in  order  to  give  the  investors  the  largest  return. 
My  father  is  one  of  them,  and  when  he  puts  money  into  a 
thing  he  wants  all  out  of  it  that's  coming  to  him.  So  do 
his  associates." 

"Let  me  finish  what  I  started  to  say,"  Lee  remarked. 
"Aside  from  what  purchasers  of  land  under  this  canal 
scheme  have  the  right  to  expect,  and  what  they  would  suffer 
from  a  disaster,  it  hits  our  own  pockets  in  the  end.  Poor 

117 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

construction  always  turns  out  to  be  expensive  construction. 
Aside  from  the  initial  cash  payments  from  buyers,  all  we 
have  from  them  will  be  notes — mortgage  notes  that  can 
be  paid  only  by  crops  from  the  land.  The  water  insures 
these  crops.  Let  the  canal  system  go  smash,  and  where  are 
these  notes?  Nowhere.  I  don't  propose  to  lose  fifty  or 
sixty  thousand  dollars  for  a  short-sighted  gain  of  ten." 

Gretzinger  laughed,  then  tapped  the  other's  shoulder 
with  a  forefinger. 

"Po  you  imagine  for  a  minute  we'll  keep  the  paper?"  he 
inquired.  "Well,  I  should  say  not!  We'll  discount  it  ten, 
and  if  necessary  twenty,  per  cent,  to  make  a  quick  clean-up 
and  be  out.  A  mortgage  company  in  the  East  will  attend 
to  that  part  of  the  business.  These  mortgages  run  for  ten 
years;  you  certainly  don't  think  we'll  sit  around  that  long 
waiting  for  our  money  and  profits.  The  discount  will  make 
the  paper  attractive  to  small  investors,  among  whom  it  will 
be  peddled  and  who  want  long-time  securities.  And  you'll 
profit  from  that  along  with  the  rest  of  us;  we  couldn't  leave 
you  out  if  we  wished." 

"No,  you  can't  leave  me  out  of  your  calculations,"  said 
Bryant,  grimly. 

"You  see  now,  I  hope,  why  it's  to  your  interest  as  well  as 
ours  to  make  the  change  I  suggest,"  Gretzinger  continued. 
"It  will  equal  the  amount  of  the  discount.  In  a  year  or  so 
we'll  all  be  out  from  under  with  bonds  and  stock  liquidated 
dollar  for  dollar.  In  other  words,  with  our  profits  in  cash 
in  the  bank  instead  of  in  notes." 

"And  somebody  else  holding  the  sack,  eh?"  Bryant's 
aquiline  nose  came  down  a  little  as  he  asked  the  question. 

118 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"No,  Gretzinger,  you  haven't  persuaded  me,  and  you  never 
will  by  that  argument.  A  pretty  rotten  scheme,  that  of 
yours.  I  shall  go  right  ahead  and  use  concrete." 

"Then  you  don't  intend  to  consider  bondholders  as  hav- 
ing a  voice  in  matters?  " 

"No." 

"Well,  they're  stockholders  as  well." 

"Minority  stockholders,  that's  all,"  Lee  stated,  coolly. 
"You've  said  this  is  a  matter  of  cold  business.  Very  well; 
I'm  the  majority  stockholder  and  have  the  control.  I 
consider  it  cold  business  to  build  the  drops  of  concrete  as 
planned.  I  consider  it  cold  business  and  good  business  to 
provide  the  farmers  with  a  safe  system.  And  I  shall  do 
that." 

Again  came  Ruth's  call,  urging  Gretzinger  to  hurry.  He 
answered  and  spoke  a  last  word  to  Bryant,  with  a  suddenly 
altered  mien. 

"You're  an  obstinate  devil,  Lee,"  he  exclaimed,  cheer- 
fully. "I'll  have  to  think  up  some  new  arguments  to  get 
you  over,  I  find.  Now  I  must  run  along,  or  the  ladies  will 
be  up  in  arms — and  not  my  arms,  either." 

Bryant  helped  him  to  button  the  curtains  on  the  hood  of 
the  car,  found  an  instant  when  he  could  press  Ruth's  hand 
unobserved  and  murmur  a  word  in  her  ear,  and  stated  that 
if  the  rain  did  not  last  he  would  run  down  (he  had  picked 
up  a  second-hand  Ford  in  Kennard)  to  Sarita  Creek  after 
supper. 

"I  don't  see  half  enough  of  you,"  Ruth  said,  giving  him  a 
pat  on  the  cheek  with  the  gloved  ringer  that  now  wore  a 
diamond  solitaire.  To  Mr.  Gretzinger  she  continued,  "If 

119 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

you  get  us  home  without  a  wetting,  you  may  stay  and  eat 
with  us;  but  if  you  don't,  why,  you  can  go  straight  on  to 
town." 

Off  the  car  sped  down  the  trail  toward  Bartolo  where 
it  would  gain  the  well-travelled  mesa  road,  a  hand  thrust 
through  the  curtains  waving  back  at  Bryant. 

The  engineer  did  not  go  to  Sarita  Creek  that  night,  for  the 
rain  settled  into  a  steady  drizzle  that  lasted  until  well  to- 
ward morning.  After  supper  he  went,  however,  to  the 
adobe  dwelling  of  the  Mexican  who  once  had  warned  him 
from  his  field.  The  man's  seven-year-old  boy  had  fallen 
from  a  horse  the  day  previous  and  fractured  a  leg;  half 
fearfully,  half  recklessly,  the  parent  had  come  ninning  to 
camp  for  medical  aid;  and  Lee  had  despatched  the  camp 
doctor,  a  young  fellow  recently  graduated,  to  treat  the 
injury.  Bryant  was  admitted  into  the  house.  The  young- 
ster, he  learned,  was  resting  comfortably  and  had  been 
visited  by  the  doctor  that  afternoon.  Lee  was  even  con- 
ducted to  the  bedside,  where  the  boy's  leg  thick  with  splints 
and  wrappings  was  exhibited  for  his  benefit. 

"  The  doctor,  he  said  I  was  to  speak  to  you  about  his  pay," 
the  Mexican  stated  after  a  time,  when  he  and  Bryant  had 
talked  awhile  in  Spanish. 

Bryant  waved  the  words  aside. 

"There's  no  charge,  nothing,"  said  he.  "I  was  delighted 
to  send  the  doctor.  I  hope  your  son  improves  rapidly.  The 
physician  will  continue  to  pay  you  calls  until  the  boy  no 
longer  requires  them.  Those  are  very  pretty  geraniums 
you  have  in  the  window,  senora.  Are  they  fragrant?" 
Lee  crossed  the  room  and  bent  his  face  above  them. 

1 20 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

The  man's  wife  rubbed  her  hands  together  under  her 
apron  with  much  pleasure.  Thus  politely  for  him  to  notice 
and  praise  her  flowers!  In  her  heart,  as  in  the  heart  of  her 
husband,  there  formerly  had  been  resentment  at  this  white 
canal-builder  for  cutting  their  field  with  a  big  ditch,  an  oc- 
currence which  the  county  judge  somehow  had  stupidly  per- 
mitted. But  now  she  did  not  know  what  to  feel.  Yester- 
day he  had  sent  them  a  doctor  for  nothing,  and  this  evening 
was  smelling  her  flowers  admiringly.  He  could  not  be  exactly 
a  monster.  Removing  one  hand  from  beneath  her  apron, 
she  inserted  a  finger-nail  in  her  black  hair  and  scratched 
her  scalp,  considering  the  subject.  Winter  was  coming,  too. 
Food  would  be  needed — and  besides,  she  long  had  desired 
one  of  those  loud  phonographs  at  Menocal's  store,  and  also 
needed  a  new  stove.  She  perceived  that  her  husband  was 
staring  at  Bryant's  back  with  a  thoughtful  air.  Undoubt- 
edly he  was  thinking  the  same  thing  as  she. 

"You  yet  want  men  and  teams  for  your  work,  sefior?" 
she  inquired. 

"All  I  can  get." 

"If  a  man  falls  sick  while  at  work,  would  he  have  the 
services  of  the  doctor?  " 

"Yes,  without  charge.  There  will  be  work  on  the  dam 
most  of  the  winter,  where  the  building  is  only  a  matter  of 
stone  and  brush.  I  can  use  all  who  want  employment. 
Then  in  the  spring  there  will  be  the  digging  of  the  ditch  on 
the  mesa." 

"Five  dollars  for  a  man  and  his  team,  is  it  not  so?"  the 
Mexican  inquired. 

"Yes." 

121 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"What  if  a  man's  wife  or  children  fall  sick?"  the  woman 
asked. 

Bryant  hid  a  smile  at  this  shrewd  bargaining.  Yet  he 
was  perceiving  an  opportunity.  There  were  no  Mexicans 
at  work  on  the  project;  one  and  all  they  had  held  off.  Like- 
wise they  refused  to  sell  him  grain  and  hay,  which  neces- 
sitated the  hauling  of  feed  from  a  distance.  But  now  this 
accident  to  the  boy  might  prove  a  heaven-sent  chance  to 
break  Menocal's  monopoly  of  influence. 

"In  case  of  sickness  in  the  man's  family,  the  doctor  shall 
attend  free,"  he  stated. 

The  woman  took  thought  afresh. 

"And  if  the  man's  horses  are  taken  sick?  " 

"Nay,  he's  not  a  horse  doctor,"  said  Lee,  smiling.  And 
even  the  woman  smiled. 

"But  there's  another  matter.  I  fear  it  prevents,"  the 
man  remarked.  "  It  is  a  note  for  fifty  dollars  that  the  bank 
holds  against  me.  If  I  work,  Menocal  will  make  trouble 
about  that.  I  think  we  had  best  talk  no  more  of  employ- 
ment." 

"  Suppose  I  advance  the  amount  in  case  he  does,  letting 
you  work  out  the  debt.  I  could  keep,  say,  two  dollars  out 
of  each  day's  five  until  you  owed  nothing." 

"That  would  be  agreeable  to  me,  senor.  But  what  if  he 
then  refuses  to  sell  me  goods  from  his  store?  " 

"You  can  buy  at  the  commissary,"  Lee  said.  "Why 
should  you  lose  five  dollars  a  day  because  of  Menocal's  bad 
feeling  for  me?  You  remain  idle — but  does  he  pay  you,  or 
feed  you?  And  the  wages  I  offer  you,  and  the  doctor's 
services,  and  the  other  accommodations,  I  also  offer  to 

122 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

other  Mexicans  who  will  work.  You  may  tell  them  so. 
Remember,  there  will  be  teaming  on  the  ditch  until  it 
freezes  up,  then  work  on  the  dam  throughout  the  winter, 
then  scraper  work  on  the  mesa  in  the  spring.  Five  dollars 
a  day  coming  in  the  door!  You  can  buy  meat  and  flour  and 
clothes  and  tobacco  and  candy  for  the  children  and  a  new 
wagon  and  pictures  of  the  Madonna,  yes,  all.  But  now  I 
must  go." 

"But  Menocal  would  be  very  angry,"  said  the  man,  with  a 
shake  of  his  head. 

Bryant  bade  them  good-night  and  departed.  He  went  up 
the  muddy  road  through  the  wet  darkness  to  the  camp. 
Domination  of  the  native  mind  by  Menocal  appeared  too 
strong  for  him  to  break. 

But  to  his  surprise  next  morning  the  Mexican  came 
driving  his  team  into  the  camp.  Lee  sent  him  to  Pat 
Carrigan,  who  gave  him  a  scraper  and  set  him  to  work  on 
the  ditch.  Toward  noon  the  engineer  encountered  him 
moving  dirt  from  the  deepening  excavation;  the  sight  had 
an  amusing  feature.  The  man,  Pedro  Saurez,  laboured  in 
his  own  field  building  the  canal  at  about  the  spot  where  he 
had  warned  Bryant  away  when  surveying. 

When  Saurez  beheld  Lee,  he  grinned  and  removed  the 
cigarette  from  his  lips. 

"It  will  be  a  fine  ditch,  this,"  was  his  remark. 


123 


CHAPTER   XHI 

Work  on  the  canal  section  near  the  river  advanced  with- 
out incident  until,  one  morning  early  in  November,  the 
plows  unexpectedly  uncovered  a  forty-foot-wide  body  of 
granite  just  beneath  the  surface.  This  particular  difficulty 
was  not  serious,  and  was  the  contractor's;  but  Pat  Carrigan 
was  no  more  pleased  than  any  other  contractor  would  have 
been  at  finding  rock,  even  a  small  amount,  when  he  had 
figured  his  excavation  costs  on  a  dirt  basis. 

"That  wipes  out  a  piece  of  my  profits,"  he  remarked  to 
Bryant,  after  a  first  profane  explosion.  "I'll  send  out  for 
some  dynamite  and  shoot  it.  If  it  wasn't  for  damned 
troubles  like  this,  I'd  been  a  retired  man  and  fat  and  rich 
long  ago.  Don't  grin,  you  heartless  blackguard!  You'll 
have  miseries  of  your  own  before  we're  done." 

Pat  Carrigan  was  a  true  prophet.  A  blow  of  fatal  nature, 
indeed,  was  preparing  at  the  moment  and  fell  within  a  week. 
From  the  state  engineer  Lee  received  a  letter  advising  him 
that  an  application  for  use  of  the  water  appropriated  to 
Perro  Creek  ranch  had  been  made  by  a  man  of  the  name  of 
Rodriguez,  of  Rosita,  under  an  old  statute  long  forgotten. 
This  law  was  mandatory  upon  the  Land  and  Water  Board. 
It  required  the  latter  to  cancel  rights  and  to  reappropriate 
water  elsewhere  to  the  amount  in  excess  of  what  a  canal 
actually  carried,  or  what  a  canal  had  failed  to  carry  for  five 

124 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

successive  years  if  it  were  not  shown  within  ninety  days 
after  a  filing  for  reappropriation  that  the  said  canal  had 
been  enlarged  to  a  capacity  to  carry  the  original  appro- 
priation, and  proof  given  of  the  owner's  intention  to  employ 
said  appropriation. 

Menocal  once  more!  He  had  been  very  quiet  all  this 
while;  he  apparently  had  made  no  effort  to  dissuade  the 
Mexicans  who,  following  Saurez's  lead,  had  come  in  increas- 
ing number  to  work  on  the  canal  or  the  dam;  the  man  had 
almost  passed  from  the  engineer's  mind.  But  he  had  not 
been  idle.  He  had  had  shrewd  legal  talent  seeking  a 
deadly  weapon  for  him  among  the  musty  statutes,  with 
which  he  could  deal  the  irrigation  project  a  coup  de  grace, 
And  as  the  import  of  the  letter  penetrated  Bryant's  brain,  his 
heart  seemed  to  turn  to  ice.  Ninety  days — finish  dam  and 
canal  in  ninety  days !  As  well  fix  a  limit  of  ninety  hours ! 

Finally  he  rushed  off  to  Pat  Carrigan  superintending 
scraper  work  and  dragged  him  aside. 

"For  God's  sake,  read  that,  Pat! "  he  cried.  "Read  what 
the  Land  and  Water  Board  are  going  to  do.  They're  going 
to  cut  the  heart  right  out  of  us !  Kill  the  project !  All  for  a 
law  nobody  ever  heard  of!  Read  it!" 

Pat  knit  his  brows  and  slowly  extracted  the  meaning 
from  the  state  engineer's  formal,  involved  announcement. 
That  something  serious  had  occurred  he  guessed  before 
Bryant  had  opened  his  lips.  He  had  never  seen  the  engineer 
so  wrought  up,  so  white,  so  agitated. 

"Let  me  get  this  right,"  the  old  contractor  said,  at  length. 
"They're  going  to  cancel  your  water  right." 

"Yes." 

125 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"But  not  at  once.    You've  ninety  days  to " 

"Ninety  days!  We  can't  do  a  year's  work  in  ninety 
days,  and  in  winter  time  at  that!"  Lee  cried. 

"Of  course  not,"  was  the  answer.  "But  it  gives  you 
time  to  argue  with  'em  and  fight  this  thing.  My  advice  is 
to  go  see  this  Board  at  once.  Maybe  if  you  explain  the 
situation,  they'll  call  off  this  fellow  Rodriguez." 

Bryant,  however,  remained  depressed.  Clearly  the  of- 
ficials had  no  liberty  of  action  in  the  matter. 

"I  don't  know  that  it  will  do  any  good,"  he  said,  "but  it's 
all  that's  left  to  do.  Pack  your  grip,  Pat;  I  want  you  to  go 
with  me.  Leave  Morgan  in  charge.  Can  you  start  in  half 
an  hour?" 

The  ride  to  Kennard  was  made  at  high  speed,  and  on  the 
way  the  men  did  little  talking.  Both  wanted  to  weigh 
the  disaster  confronting  the  project.  In  town  they  sought 
out  McDonnell,  who  promised  to  have  his  attorney  go  into 
the  matter  at  once  and  who  appeared  very  grave  at  the  news. 
Then  they  returned  to  the  hotel  to  await  their  train. 

Here  Lee  was  surprised  to  encounter  Ruth  in  company  of 
Gretzinger,  Charlie  Menocal,  and  a  Kennard  girl  with  whom 
he  was  not  acquainted.  Ruth  and  Imogene,  he  learned, 
had  come  down  the  day  before  with  the  New  Yorker  and 
were  staying  at  the  McDonnell  home. 

"We're  just  roaming  around  and  amusing  ourselves," 
Ruth  said,  slipping  her  arm  within  Lee's.  "  Come  on  and 
join  us." 

Lee  smilingly  shook  his  head. 

"Can't  possibly  do  it,"  said  he.  "I'm  leaving  for  the 
capital  soon." 

126 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Ruth  drew  him  aside. 

"But  give  me  ten  minutes  of  your  time  before  you  go, 
will  you,  dear?"  she  asked.  "Come,  we  can  go  into  one  of 
the  parlours  where  we'll  be  alone."  And  when  they  were 
seated  there,  she  continued,  "I  know  why  you're  going  to 
Santa  Fe.  Charlie  said  he  understood  you  were  involved 
in  some  new  legal  trouble  and  that  you  might  lose  your 
whole  project.  Mr.  Gretzinger  laughed  at  him  and  so  did 
I,  for  we  knew  it  couldn't  be  true.  But  it's  bothering  you, 
I  see;  your  face  is  anxious.  I  hope  you'll  clear  up  the  hor- 
rid matter,  whatever  it  is,  while  you're  gone."  Then  after 
a  pause,  she  remarked,  "Perhaps  Mr.  Gretzinger  could  be 
of  assistance  to  you." 

"Not  in  this  matter,"  said  Lee. 

"He  has  a  great  deal  of  influence,  especially  in  the  East." 

"But  this  is  the  West — and  I  don't  care  much  for  Gret- 
zinger, besides,"  he  stated. 

"  So  he  says.  More  than  once  he  has  wished  you  would 
be  more  friendly.  Isn't  it  a  little  inconsiderate  of  you,  Lee, 
to  hold  him  off  at  arm's  length,  especially  when  he's  here  as 
representative  of  the  bondholders?  He  has  a  vital  interest 
in  the  canal  and  its  success.  Really,  I  think  he  might  be  of 
great  help  if  you'd  permit.  And  it  would  be  of  great  ad- 
vantage to  us  in  the  future,  his  friendship  and  that  of  the 
men  behind  him,  for  they  are  wealthy  and  influential. 
That's  one  reason  why  you  ought  to  cultivate  him,  Lee." 

"  Go  on,"  said  he,  as  she  paused. 

"Well,  I  thought  we  should  discuss  the  matter.  I'm  of 
the  opinion  that  you  misunderstand  him.  You'll  not  deny 
that  he's  a  man  of  ability." 

127 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"  No— though  I  know  little  of  him." 

"He  is,  though,  Lee.  And  an  engineer  of  high  standing^ 
too,  and  of  experience.  Wouldn't  it  be  wise  to  consult  him 
a  little  more  than  you  do?  He  has  talked  to  me  at  tunes 
about  the  project  and  has,  I  believe,  ideas  you  could  use. 
For  instance,  he  says  that  if  you  made  certain  changes  in 
the  canal  there  would  be  a  considerable  saving  of  money,  by 
which  the  stockholders  would  benefit,  you  among  them. 
He  says  that  if  in  certain  places  wood  were  used  instead  of 
concrete  it  would  mean  thousands  of  dollars  in  your  pocket." 

"It  would,  but  it  would  also  endanger  the  canal." 

"Mr.  Gretzinger  said  you  asserted  that  as  your  reason/' 
she  proceeded,  "but  he  claims  there's  no  more  prospect  of 
danger  from  that  source  than  from  a  fly.  And  anyway, 
isn't  it  a  matter  that  concerns  only  the  buyers  afterward? 
He  says  so.  I  don't  know  much  about  such  matters,  of 
course,  but  you  really  must  look  after  your  own  best  interest 
first — and  mine.  I  say  mine  because  mine  will  be  yours 
after  we're  married.  Mr.  Gretzinger  says  your  share  of  the 
saving  would  be  at  least  five  thousand  dollars  and  possibly 
more.  Lee,  do  this  for  me." 

"What  he  proposes  is  dishonest,  Ruth." 

"But  why?  He  says  the  state  board  would  grant  the 
change  if  proper  representations  were  made.  If  the  of- 
ficials allowed  it,  I  can't  see  where  it  would  be  dishonest." 

"The  officials  would  have  to  be  deceived  to  gain  their 
consent  to  such  a  change,"  Lee  said,  patiently.  "But  the 
real  point  at  issue  is  the  permanency  of  the  water  system, 
Ruth.  The  poor  devils  who  buy  the  land  and  who  toil  for 
years  to  pay  for  it  are  to  be  considered.  If  the  canal  is  too 

128 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

cheaply  constructed,  they'll  probably  lose  their  crops;  and 
losing  their  crops  means  ruin.  As  far  as  possible  an  engineer 
must  insure  against  this  danger  when  he  builds  the  canal; 
then  if  any  accident  happens  later,  his  conscience,  at  any 
rate,  is  clear." 

"But  he  says  you  over-estimate  the  risk,  that  wood  is 
perfectly  safe.  And  he's  an  expert  engineer,  too.  More 
experienced  than  you,  Lee." 

"You  seem  to  have  discussed  this  thing  with  him  at  great 
length,"  Bryant  remarked,  dryly. 

"I  have,  indeed  I  have,  because  I  have  your  success  so 
greatly  at  heart,  dear.  I  want  to  see  you  receive  every 
penny  that  you  earn  and  all  the  credit  you  deserve;  I  want 
you  to  go  ahead  in  your  profession  and  become  both  wealthy 
and  famous;  but  sometimes  I  think  that  you're  so  absorbed 
in  the  engineering  part  of  the  work  that  you're  careless  of  the 
future.  One  has  to  be  practical,  too.  One  has  to  look  out 
for  one's  own  interests.  And  I  don't  see  why  your  re- 
sponsibility for  the  project  doesn't  end  when  you've  built 
the  canal,  sold  the  land,  and  turned  the  system  over  to  the 
farmers.  You  can't  go  on  looking  out  for  them  after  that; 
you're  not  answerable  to  the  'hay-seeds'  who  settle  here  for 
what  may  or  may  not  happen.  And  we  shall  need  the 
money  that  would  be  saved  by  using  wood  instead  of  con- 
crete, Lee.  When  you're  through  here,  we  shall  want  to 
live  in  New  York  at  least  part  of  the  time.  With  Mr. 
Gretzinger's  friendship  you  could  perhaps  form  a  connection 
so  that  you  could  be  there  all  the  while,  and  make  a  big 
fortune.  You  will  do  this  for  me,  won't  you,  Lee?  It 
means  just  that  much  more  happiness  for  us." 

129 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

She  slipped  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  kissed  him 
impulsively,  eagerly.  Lee  felt  himself  tremble  at  that 
clasp,  at  that  kiss.  Words  seemed  futile.  His  anxiety 
over  the  fate  of  his  project  gave  way  to  a  profound  sickness 
of  soul.  That  Ruth  should  thus  reveal  such  a  cloudiness  of 
spiritual  vision,  such  an  inability  to  distinguish  between 
moral  values,  such  a  ready  acceptance  of  Gretzinger's 
vicious  philosophy,  was  the  final  drop  in  his  bitter  cup  this 
day. 

"It's  not  a  question  of  either  wood  or  concrete  just  at 
present,"  he  said,  rising.  "It's  whether  I'm  to  have  a 
project  at  all.  I'll  not  go  with  you,  Ruth,  to  your  friends; 
I  must  think  over  what  I'm  to  do  and  say  at  Sante  Fe  to- 
morrow." 

As  he  rode  thither  with  Carrigan  that  night  it  seemed  as 
if  he  now  was  at  grapple  with  forces,  invisible,  powerful, 
malevolent,  that  strove  to  dispossess  him  of  everything  that 
was  dear.  His  project!  What  means,  what  help,  what 
law  was  there  of  which  he  could  make  use  to  ward  off  this 
deadly  assault  on  it?  And  Ruth!  How  should  he  save 
her — save  her  from  herself,  clear  the  mist  from  her  eyes, 
arouse  her  drowsing  soul?  All  that  he  had  aimed  at  and  all 
that  he  had  striven  for  hung  on  rinding  answers  to  those 
questions. 


130 


CHAPTER  XIV 

By  noon  Bryant  and  Carrigan  had  concluded  their  inter- 
views with  members  of  the  Land  and  Water  Board.  All  of 
them  had  listened,  asked  questions,  expressed  their  regret 
at  the  situation  in  which  Perro  Creek  project  found  itself, 
but  stated  that  the  Board  had  no  course  other  than  that  of 
executing  the  law  evoked  in  the  case.  They  suggested  that 
Bryant  bring  an  action  in  the  courts  to  test  the  law;  they 
admitted  that  his  company  might  be  forced  into  the  hands 
of  a  receiver;  they  inquired  concerning  the  possibility  of 
gaining  the  consent  of  the  adverse  party  to  a  withdrawal 
of  his  application.  Their  hands,  however,  said  one  and  all, 
were  tied  in  the  matter. 

The  engineer  and  the  contractor  went  down  the  steps  of 
the  state  house  and  found  a  seat  on  a  bench  at  a  shady  spot 
of  the  grounds. 

"Just  as  I  expected  it  would  be,"  Bryant  said,  grimly. 

He  sat  humped  over,  his  elbows  on  his  knees  and  his 
cheeks  between  his  fists.  His  eyes  were  dull,  heavy;  he  had 
not  closed  them  during  the  previous  night.  He  wore  the 
mud-caked  lace  boots  and  stained  khaki,  as  did  Carrigan,  in 
which  he  had  departed  from  camp. 

"Well,  we  haven't  quit  breathing  yet,"  Pat  remarked, 
licking  the  wrapper  on  the  cigar  he  was  about  to  light. 

Lee  sat  silent  for  several  minutes. 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Anyway,  I'll  see  you  don't  lose,  Pat,"  he  said.  "You 
can  figure  out  what  profit  you  would  have  made  on  your 
contract  if  the  ditch  had  been  built  and  I'll  pay  you  that. 
Then  you  can  call  off  your  crew." 

"  Oh,  I'll  let  you  down  easy,  Lee.     That  wasn't  worrying 
me  any,"  was  the  rejoinder.     "I  was  just  thinking — 
But  his  words  broke  off  there,  and  he  again  gave  his  atten- 
tion to  the  cigar  wrapper  that  persisted  in  coming  loose. 

Bryant  continued  his  gloomy  cogitation.  The  muscles 
of  his  cheeks  moved  in  hard  lumps  beneath  his  fists  as  if 
he  were  champing  some  resistant  substance.  Over  his  eyes 
his  lids  from  time  to  time  drooped  sleepily.  But  all  at  once 
he  leaped  up. 

"If  I  but  had  something  I  could  take  hold  of,  Pat!"  he 
exclaimed.  "Something  I  could  lay  hands  on  and  move, 
like  that  bed  of  rock  you  uncovered !  So  I  could  go  ahead ! 
A  law  is  so  damned  immaterial  that  one  has  nothing  to  work 
against.  It  leaves  a  man  nowhere,  helpless.  It  lifts  him 
off  the  ground  and  holds  him  kicking  futilely  in  the  air. 
Just  that.  By  God,  I'm  desperate  enough  to  try  anything — 
to  try  building  the  ditch — try  whipping  Menocal  even  under 
this  moth-eaten  law  he's  dug  up!" 

Pat  shut  one  eye  against  the  smoke  curling  into  it. 

"I  was  speculating  a  little  along  the  same  line,"  said  he, 
slowly. 

"But  twelve  miles  of  ditch  in  ninety  days!  The  whole 
mesa  line!  We'd  be  crazy  to  think  of  it.  Let's  talk  of 
something  else." 

Lee's  mouth,  nevertheless,  was  twitching,  while  gleams  like 
light  came  and  went  on  his  face. 

132 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"I  always  had  a  weakness  for  the  bad  bets,"  said  Pat. 

"  But  twelve  miles  of  ditch ! " 

"And  the  nights  freezing  harder  every  week,"  the  old 
contractor  added. 

"And  the  days  short." 

"Yes,  and  nerve  shorter  yet,"  said  Pat. 

The  remark  was  airily  given,  but  the  inference  was  plain. 
Lee  took  a  step  aside  and  stood  staring  across  the  capitol 
grounds,  with  brows  knit,  with  lips  compressed,  the  prey  of 
struggling  hopes  and  doubts. 

"Pat,"  he  said,  turning. 

"Well?" 

"Do  you  think  we  could  do  it?" 

"  God  knows ;  I  don't.  But  we  could  give  the  job  an  awful 
whirl,"  the  contractor  stated. 

"The  thing  looks  impossible,  preposterous,  but  if  you  see 
the  slightest  chance  of  success  I  want  you  to  say  so.  Dirt 
moving  is  your  game,  not  mine.  Ninety  days;  that's 
thirteen  weeks.  Almost  a  mile  a  week.  Can  it  be  done? 
Can  you  do  it?  " 

Pat  at  last  threw  away  the  cigar  that  refused  to  draw. 

"With  men  and  teams  enough  I  could  build  a  ditch  to 
tide-water  in  that  time,"  said  he,  with  sudden  energy. 
"  Men  and  scrapers,  scrapers  and  men — that's  all.  You  can 
rip  the  insides  out  of  any  dirt  job  on  earth  if  you  have  the 
crews.  Of  course,  it  takes  money,  big  wages,  to  get  and  hold 
them." 

"Money!  What  do  I  care  for  that  if  we  build  the  canal? 
How  much  more  will  it  take?  How  much  will  you  need?  " 

"Say  twenty  thousand  more." 

133 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"  Get  out  your  pencil  and  begin  figuring  it." 

"I  don't  need  a  pencil,"  Carrigan  answered.  "I  haven't 
been  moving  dirt  for  fifty  years  without  figures  sticking  to 
my  hair.  I've  digested  your  blue-prints  and  know  what's 
to  come  out  of  the  ground.  Now  I'll  tell  you  what  it  would 
be  if  there  was  no  frost  in  the  ground,  as  in  summer — and 
we'll  afterward  allow  for  the  frost;  and  what's  necessary  in 
men,  horses,  fresnos.  shacks,  horsefeed,  food,  clothes,  and 
general  supplies." 

And  thereupon  Carrigan  began  to  pour  forth  a  stream 
of  data  so  exact,  so  comprehensive,  so  full,  that  Bryant 
listened  in  astonishment.  All  carried  in  his  head,  ready  for 
use! 

"I  hope  I  know  my  business  at  your  age  as  you  know 
yours,"  Lee  exclaimed. 

"You  will,  or  ought  to.  I've  paid  for  what  I  know  in 
mistakes  and  miscalculated  jobs,  as  does  every  man  some 
time  or  other — paid  in  hard  cash.  What  he  learns  is  all  he 
gets  out  of  losses.  Now,  the  figures  I  gave  were  for  summer 
work;  winter  dirt  moving  is  another  kind  of  animal.  Work 
is  slower,  men  are  harder  to  keep,  weather  is  generally  bad." 

"This  autumn  has  been  later  than  usual,  and  it  may 
last,"  said  Lee. 

"And  it  may  not,"  Carrigan  stated,  emphatically.  "It's 
that  that  worries  me  about  this  thing.  As  it  is,  the  ground 
freezes  on  top  every  night.  Let  the  thermometer  make  a 
low  drop,  and  we  won't  be  able  to  stick  a  plow-point  into  it 
anywhere." 

"There's  no  moisture  to  speak  of  in  the  soil  of  the  mesa." 

"Enough  to  freeze  the  dirt,  just  the  same,"  said  Pat 

134 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"We  can  leave  the  dam  out  of  consideration." 

"Yes;  no  trouble  about  finishing  that.  And  your  con- 
crete work,  Lee,  won't  lose  you  any  sleep.  A  carload  of 
cement  from  here,  gravel  from  the  river,  and  a  dozen  Ken- 
nard  carpenters  to  knock  together  gate  and  drop  frames — 
no  trick  to  crack  that  nut.  Frost,  lad,  frost!  It's  the 
thing  to  set  us  groaning." 

Bryant  sat  down  and  put  his  hand  on  the  speaker's  knee. 

"Pat,  if  we  go  into  this  thing  and  put  it  through,  there 
will  be  a  good  fat  bonus  for  you." 

"Maybe  there  will  be  and  maybe  there  won't.  Maybe 
you'll  have  some  money  left  when  we're  done  and  maybe 
you'll  not  have  a  red  cent.  In  any  case,  the  old  man  is  with 
you,  Lee,  to  the  end  of  the  scrap — if  you  go  ahead.  What 
about  your  bondholders?  Will  they  stand  for  risking  what's 
not  yet  spent?  They  will  save  considerable  by  your  stop- 
ping now;  they'll  lose  all  if  we  fail." 

"What  do  you " 

Pat's  raised  hand  halted  him. 

"Ask  me  nothing,"  said  he.  "That's  for  you  alone  to 
settle.  If  you  spend  their  money  and  win,  they'll  say 
'Thank  you' — maybe;  and  if  you  go  under,  they'll  damn 
you  up  one  side  and  down  the  other  and  probably  try  to 
send  you  to  the  pen.  You're  the  chief;  you  have  to  decide; 
you  can't  share  the  responsibility — anyway,  not  with  me. 
And  if  you're  inquiring,  I'll  remark  that  its  considerable 
responsibility.  Go  off  yonder  by  yourself  and  think  it  over 
a  bit." 

Bryant  left  the  old  contractor  lighting  a  fresh  cigar.  He 
walked  to  another  bench  a  short  distance  away,  where  he  sat 

135 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

down.  In  his  first  exultation  at  perceiving  a  fighting  chance 
to  save  the  project  he  had  seen  only  the  opportunity,  but 
Carrigan's  unexpected  turn  of  the  subject  had  brought  him 
back  to  earth.  He  was  guardian,  as  well  as  dispenser,  of 
company  funds.  He  had  obligations  to  the  bondholders. 
Therefore,  would  he  be  justified  in  risking  the  money  on 
such  a  desperate  venture?  His  soul  sank. 

But  his  mind  would  not  cease  to  revolve  about  the  under- 
taking, for  he  could  not  at  once  relinquish  his  long-cherished 
dream.  The  thought  of  tame  surrender  was  as  wormwood 
in  his  mouth.  To  stand  by  acquiescent  while  the  project 
collapsed!  That  prospect  he  could  not  endure.  Never 
again,  if  he  capitulated  now,  would  he  be  able  to  strike  out 
with  the  same  courage  as  in  this  project;  never  with  the  same 
courage,  or  spirit,  or  faith.  The  project  was  his  creation! 
The  thing  of  his  brain  and  will !  Part  of  himself !  And  how 
confidently  he  had  made  his  plans  and  acquired  the  property 
and  started  work!  No  doubts  of  his  ability  to  carry  it 
through!  No  question  of  his  right  to  go  ahead!  No  fear  of 
the  task! 

The  engineer  came  suddenly  to  his  feet. 

Builders  throughout  the  world  took  equal  risks  and  over- 
came as  great  obstacles  every  day;  it  was  the  measure  of 
their  genius  and  will.  Engineers  elsewhere  crushed  a  way 
through  earth  and  rock  to  their  goals,  and  under  adverse 
circumstances,  with  no  thought  of  failure.  Were  there  not 
men  who  would  unhesitatingly  take  hold  of  this  project  now 
and  complete  it  in  the  time  allotted?  Yes,  any  number. 
For  the  very  same  reason  that  he  had  launched  the  scheme. 
Because  they  had  the  ability,  because  they  had  the  will, 

'     136 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

because,  most  of  all,  they  had  faith — faith  in  their  own 
powers. 

Lee  went  back  to  Pat  Carrigan. 

"We  shall  build  it,"  said  he.     "And  in  ninety  days." 

The  contractor  rose. 

"You  talk  like  a  real  'chief  now,  Bryant,"  he  replied. 
"I  was  waiting  for  that.  Come  along;  we'll  start  burning 
the  wires." 


137 


CHAPTER    XV 

Louise  Graham,  entering  the  dining  car  for  breakfast,  re- 
ceived a  surprise  at  beholding  Lee  Bryant  half  way  along  the 
aisle  at  one  of  the  smaller  tables.  He  laid  down  the  spoon 
with  which  he  was  delving  into  a  half  of  a  cantaloupe  and 
got  quickly  to  his  feet  to  greet  her. 

"So  you're  home  again,"  he  said,  after  shaking  hands. 
"Your  father  told  me  when  I  met  him  that  you  were  in  the 
East.  Will  you  share  my  table?  " 

"I  use  'shopping'  as  a  pretext  for  a  jaunt  now  and  then," 
she  laughed,  when  they  were  seated.  "Once  in  a  while  the 
lure  of  city  dissipations  seizes  me;  I  had  a  week  in  Washing- 
ton and  three  in  New  York  with  friends,  which  will  satisfy 
me  for  a  few  months.  You  were  just  starting  work  on  your 
project  when  I  went  away.  Are  you  making  good  prog- 
ress?" 

"Very.  But  I'll  make  still  better  from  now  on.  It's  a 
case  with  me  of  do  or  be  'done',  of  dig  out  or  be  buried.  I 
may  as  well  be  open  about  it,  for  everyone  will  know 
presently,  anyway.  The  project  must  be  completed  in 
ninety  days." 

"Ninety  days?     Great  heavens!" 

"That's  what  I  said,  too,"  Lee  stated,  with  a  smile. 
"Several  times,  in  fact.  There  is  an  old  law,  it  seems,  that 
enables  interested  parties  to  hold  a  stop-watch  on  me." 

138 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"And  what's  the  penalty  if  you  fail  to  finish  the  work  in 
those  three  months?-" 

"Cancellation  of  my  water  right." 

"  Cancellation?     Surely  not." 

"I  tried  to  convince  the  Land  and  Water  Board  of  that 
in  Santa  Fe,  but  made  no  headway." 

"How  outrageous!"  she  exclaimed. 

The  waiter  at  her  elbow  recalled  her  to  the  requirements 
of  the  moment.  Still  with  a  trace  of  colour  in  her  cheeks, 
the  result  of  her  indignation,  she  scanned  the  menu  and 
wrote  out  her  order. 

"The  thing  is  so  utterably  unreasonable,"  she  resumed, 
more  calmly.  "Why  did  they  let  you  start  if  they  proposed 
afterward  to  hang  a  sword  above  your  head?" 

"The  Board  was  ignorant  of  this  law,  as  was  everybody 
else,  until  it  was  brought  to  light  by  the  applicant  for  cancel- 
lation," said  Lee,  "a  certain  Rodriguez,  of  Rosita." 

"Who  is  he?" 

Bryant  shook  his  head. 

"Don't  ask  me.     No  friend,  at  any  rate." 

She  regarded  him  steadily  for  a  moment. 

"Probably  a  man  put  forward  by  Mr.  Menocal." 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  he. 

"But  the  idea  of  expecting  you  to  build  all  those  miles  of 
ditch  in  ninety  days  and  in  the  winter  time!  I  wonder  that 
you  can  be  so  calm." 

"Why  shouldn't  I  be  calm?  My  mind's  made  up.  I'm 
going  to  complete  the  project  on  time." 

The  words  were  uttered  in  a  matter-of-fact  tone  that  im- 
pressed Louise  Graham  far  more  than  would  any  vehement 

139 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

assertion.  As  he  had  stated,  his  mind  was  made  up,  quite 
made  up  on  the  point.  Others  might  think  what  they 
pleased:  it  carried  no  weight  with  him.  The  thing  was  cer- 
tain. 

She  examined  the  engineer  with  a  new  interest.  There 
was  a  difference  in  him,  what  would  be  hard  to  say.  One 
couldn't  exactly  put  ringer  on  it.  Something  in  his  gray 
eyes,  perhaps;  something  in  the  sharper  stamp  of  his  aquiline 
nose,  of  his  lips,  of  his  bronzed  jaw;  something  in  his  whole 
bearing.  It  went  deeper  than  features,  too;  she  sensed  a 
change  in  the  spirit  of  the  man  from  what  it  had  been  that 
day  of  his  going  down  to  Kennard,  when  he  strolled  with  her 
in  her  garden.  He  was  less  bouyant,  less  manifest,  less 
elated,  but  more  poised  and  sure.  A  change,  yes. 

Then  her  thoughts  reverted  to  his  tremendous  under- 
taking. 

"How  long  have  you  known  this? "  she  inquired. 

"Since  the  day  before  yesterday.  Pat  Carrigan,  my 
contractor,  and  I  came  to  the  capital  at  once  to  discuss  the 
affair  with  the  Board.  The  news  was — well,  a  good  deal  of 
a  facer." 

She  nodded. 

"It  would  be,"  were  her  words.  "You'll  need  more 
workmen  and  horses,  of  course." 

"All  I  can  get.  Pat  went  to  Denver  last  night,  and  the 
labour  agencies  there  and  at  Pueblo,  Colorado  Springs,  Santa 
Fe,  El  Paso,  and  places  farther  east  doubtless  by  now  are 
rounding  up  men.  We  picked  up  an  idle  grading  outfit 
yesterday  in  Santa  Fe;  it  will  be  loaded  and  started  by  to- 
night." 

140 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Her  face  became  a  little  rueful. 

"That  all  sounds  so  big  that  I  hesitate  to  make  the  offer 
I  had  in  mind  when  I  asked,"  she  said. 

"What  was  it,  Miss  Graham?" 

"Father  has  twelve  or  fifteen  teams  and  some  scrapers 
used  on  the  ranch.  The  horses  aren't  working  at  this 
season.  He  would  be  glad  to  let  you  have  them,  I  know, 
if  he  thought  they  would  be  of  any  aid.  But  with  what 
you'll  have,  perhaps  you " 

"I  want  them;  I'll  be  more  than  grateful  for  them.  I 
need  every  man  and  horse  available.  I  can't  get  too  many. 
Each  labourer  and  each  horse  counts  just  that  much  more. 
It's  a  great  kindness  on  your  part  to  suggest  their  use  to  mer 
and  I'll  stop  on  the  way  to  camp  to  see  your  father." 

"He'll  consent  to  your  employing  them,"  said  she,  con- 
fidently.. "Dad  likes  a  man  who  puts  up  a  good  fight,  and 
you're  doing  that.  A  fight  against  great  odds." 

Bryant's  face  lightened  with  a  smile  almost  sunny. 

"By  heavens,  it's  comforting  to  have  a  friend  like  you," 
he  exclaimed,  "when  one's  in  a  tight  place!" 

The  waiter  began  to  place  her  meal,  and  he  turned  his 
head  to  look  out  of  the  window  while  his  mind  recalled  his 
talk  with  Ruth  in  the  hotel  parlour  at  Kennard.  Little  com- 
fort he  had  had  from  her  then.  Her  interest  in  the  project, 
in  fact,  as  he  reviewed  the  summer,  had  been  slight,  always 
casual,  concerned  only  with  its  financial  factor,  never  par- 
ticularly sympathetic,  never  warm,  never  eager.  The 
thought  struck  him  unpleasantly.  It  had  never  occurred  to 
him  before.  He  wondered  if  this  indifference  would  con- 
tinue when  they  were  married,  if  in  ten  years — when  he  was 

141 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

about  forty,  say — she  would  be  even  less  inclined  to  know  his 
work,  like  the  wives  of  some  men  he  could  name  who  had 
their  own  separate  interests,  who  gave  their  husbands  no 
sympathy  at  their  tasks,  nor  courage,  nor  heart,  and  whose 
single  cognizance  of  it  had  to  do  with  the  size  of  the  income. 

But  he  drove  this  depressing  and  disloyal  speculation 
from  his  mind.  Ruth  was  young  and  perhaps  restless,  but 
she  was  sweet  and  full  of  promise.  Time  would  round  out 
her  character;  and  when  she  had  matured,  she  would  be  one 
in  a  million — a  mate  who  cheered  and  inspired.  Every  bit 
of  that!  She  would  presently  see  the  real  values  of  things; 
Charlie  Menocal's  monkey  tricks  would  no  longer  amuse  her, 
and  she  would  perceive  what  a  shallow  harlequin  he  was, 
while  she  would  comprehend  Gretzinger's  vicious,  unprinci- 
pled sophistry  and  turn  in  disgust  from  the  man.  She  was 
inexperienced,  that  was  all. 

"It  will  be  good  to  be  back  once  more  where  one  has 
plenty  of  room,"  Louise  Graham  remarked.  "In  that 
liking,  you  see,  I'm  a  genuine  Westerner.  That's  what  I 
missed  most  when  at  school  in  the  East,  at  Bryn  Mawr — 
space.  I  wanted  my  big  mountains  and  wide  mesa  and  long} 
restful  views.  And  how  I  galloped  on  my  pony  through  the 
sagebrush  when  I  came  back  during  summer  vacations!" 

The  recollection  set  her  eyes  glistening. 

"You  still  do  it  when  you  return  from  a  trip,  I'll  venture 
to  say,"  Lee  stated,  marking  the  glow  of  her  face. 

"Yes,  I  do.  Almost  the  very  first  thing.  It  clears  my 
brain  of  city  noise  and  sights  and  grime.  It  soothes  my 
nerves.  Nothing  does  that  like  our  keen  air  with  its  scent 
of  sagebrush." 

142 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Then  I  should  see  you  riding  up  my  way  soon." 

"Oh,  I'll  certainly  want  to  follow  the  progress  of  your 
work,  Mr.  Bryant.  With  father's  teams  working  for  you, 
I'll  feel  as  if  we  had  a  part  in  the  race."  After  a  pause  she 
proceeded,  "The  contractor's  outfit  went  up  and  you  were 
just  starting  the  dam  and  excavation  about  the  time  I  went 
East.  Father  mentioned  in  a  letter  to  me  that  he  had 
dropped  in  at  your  camp  once  or  twice  when  at  Bartolo." 

"Yes,  I  showed  him  what  we  were  doing.  We've 
had  other  visitors  occasionally.  Miss  Gardner  and  Miss 
Martin — at  Santa  Creek,  you  remember — come  at  times. 
Miss  Martin  is  a  niece  of  Mr.  McDonnell,  of  Kennard." 

"So  Mrs.  McDonnell  told  me.  Just  before  I  left  I  called 
at  their  cabins  again.  But  I  had  no  more  luck  that  time 
than  the  first;  they  were  away  somewhere.  Well,"  she  con- 
cluded, with  a  smile,  "perhaps  the  third  time  will  win;  that's 
the  rule.  I'll  go  another  time  soon." 

"You'll  like  them,  I'm  sure.  They're  both  charming,  I 
think.  Unusual  girls." 

"I'll  go  soon,"  she  repeated. 

"My  desire  possibly  will  be  understood  by  you,"  said  he, 
after  a  slight  hesitation,  "when  I  say  that  Miss  Gardner 
and  I  are  engaged  to  be  married.  So  it  would  please  me 
immensely  if  you  two  became  good  friends." 

Louise  Graham  showed  some  surprise.  But  this  imme- 
diately changed  to  smiling  interest. 

"Accept  my  congratulations,  Mr.  Bryant,"  she  said. 
"You  may  count  on  our  being  friends.  Hereafter  she  and 
Miss  Martin  must  come  to  our  ranch  whenever  they  will. 
I  suppose  they  ride  up  where  you  are  nearly  every  day;  Miss 

143 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Gardner,  in  particular,  must  be  tremendously  devoted  to  your 
project  and  now  tremendously  excited,  too,  over  your  race 
against  time.  Who  wouldn't  be,  in  her  place ! " 

"Naturally,"  said  Lee,  with  all  the  heartiness  he  could 
muster  in  his  voice.  But  to  himself,  at  least,  his  tone  rang 
hollow. 

When  an  hour  or  so  after  they  had  finished  their  meal 
they  alighted  from  their  Pullmans  at  Kennard,  the  echo  of 
his  forced  reply  still  sounded  in  his  mind  with  persistent 
irony.  He  was  glad  he  had  an  interview  with  McDonnell 
before  him  that  would  silence  it,  the  negotiating  of  a  large 
private  loan. 


144 


CHAPTER  XVI 

For  Bryant  there  now  began  a  period  of  activity  compared 
to  which  his  earlier  efforts  were  mere  play.  Headquarters 
were  moved  down  to  Perro  Creek,  ten  miles  nearer  Kennard. 
In  an  endless  procession  streamed  northward  automobiles 
crammed  with  labourers,  wagons  heaped  with  lumber, 
cement,  implements,  food,  tents,  forage,  and  long  lines  of 
fresnos.  From  distant  Mexican  settlements  came  natives 
in  ramshackle  wagons  and  driving  half-wild  ponies.  Out 
of  the  hills  came  sheep-herders  and  prospectors.  The  word 
of  big  wages  ran  everywhere.  The  drive  was  on. 

By  the  dam  and  on  the  tongue  of  ground  extending  from 
the  mountain  side  where  the  canal  would  swing  out  upon  the 
mesa,  excavation  for  the  intake  gate  and  weir  and  the  drops 
was  in  progress,  with  a  crew  of  carpenters  swiftly  erecting 
wooden  forms  to  receive  the  concrete  when  the  diggers 
finished  and  retired.  On  the  mesa  half  a  dozen  young 
engineers,  using  Bryant's  notes  and  fixed  points,  ran  anew 
the  ditch  line  and  set  grade  stakes.  North  of  Perro  Creek 
white  tents  gleamed  in  the  sunshine;  and  beyond  these  a 
swarm  of  men  and  horses  gashed  a  yellow  streak  in  the  mesa, 
ever  extending  as  the  days  passed — cutting  sagebrush, 
ripping  through  sod,  flinging  up  earth  with  plow  and 
scraper. 

Yes,  the  fight  was  on.    The  fight  to  secure  and  keep 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

horses,  to  get  and  hold  workmen,  to  feed  and  use  them  both 
mercilessly,  to  press  them  ahead  like  a  shaft  of  steel,  to 
drive  them  forward  under  lash,  mile  by  mile,  rod  by  rod, 
foot  by  foot,  forcing  a  channel  through  the  resistant  earth 
and  across  the  mesa — a  fight  to  outwit  frost,  to  outstrip 
time,  to  outreach  and  overcome  the  impossible. 

Bryant  himself  was  everywhere,  now  at  the  dam,  now 
with  the  carpenters,  now  at  Perro  Creek.  Morgan,  in  charge 
of  the  north  camp,  succumbed  to  Bryant's  own  restless 
energy  and  matched  it.  The  gang,  now  beginning  to  pour 
concrete  behind  the  carpenters,  caught  the  infection  of  his 
ardor.  Foreman  and  crew  on  the  hillside  section,  at  his 
word  that  they  had  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  dirt  work, 
toiled  the  harder.  The  other  engineers  promised  to  give 
him  their  best  and  gave  him  more.  And  in  the  main  camp 
at  Perro  Creek  Pat  Carrigan  extracted  the  last  ounce  of 
effort  from  man  and  beast. 

In  Kennard  Bryant  had  said  to  McDonnell,  "Give  me  a 
good  man  for  this  end,  one  who  can  work  twenty  hours  a 
day."  And  the  banker  had  given  him  such  an  one:  a  short, 
bow-legged  clerk  with  a  pugnacious  jaw,  who  took  the  type- 
written list  of  Bryant's  immediate  requirements,  read  it, 
jerked  on  his  hat,  and  bolted  out  of  the  door.  He  it  was 
who  kept  the  road  north  from  Kennard  a-jiggle  with 
freight  wagons. 

The  fierce  struggle  against  time  became  generally  known. 
Ranchers  visited  the  mesa  for  a  sight  of  the  toiling  camps. 
Wagonloads  of  Mexican  families,  curious,  observant,  came 
and  went.  Automobile  parties  from  Kennard  and  elsewhere 
made  inspection  trips  to  the  spot.  Even  a  journalist  rep- 

146 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

resenting  a  Denver  paper  appeared,  made  photographs,  and 
obtained  an  interview  from  Bryant  consisting  of  "Finish  it 
on  time?  Certainly.  Can't  talk  any  longer."  Which,, 
together  with  the  pictures  and  the  special  writer's  account, 
filled  a  page  of  a  Sunday  issue. 

The  anxiety  ever  in  Bryant's  and  Carrigan's  minds  was 
of  that  grim  and  implacable  enemy,  cold.  Autumn  had 
lasted  amazingly;  November  yielded  to  December,  with  the 
days  still  fine;  but  who  could  tell  when  the  white  spectre, 
Winter,  would  lay  his  icy  hand  upon  the  earth?  The  peaks, 
and  upper  slopes  of  the  mountains  were  already  mantled 
with  snow.  Each  morning  the  engineer  and  the  con- 
tractor marked  with  care  the  fall  of  the  thermometer 
during  the  night,  examined  the  frost  upon  the  grass  and 
tested  its  depth  in  the  soil.  They  watched  the  barometer 
like  hawks.  They  observed  every  cloud  along  the  Ven- 
tisquero  Range.  They  studied  the  wind,  the  sun,  the  sky. 
But  the  weather  held  fair.  So  calm  was  the  air  that  at 
times  sounds  of  the  dynamite  blasts  at  the  granite  outshoot, 
where  a  pan:  of  miners  were  clearing  a  path  for  the  canal, 
came  travelling  down  to  Perro  Creek. 

"The  Lord  surely  has  his  arms  around  us,"  said  Pat,  one 
morning. 

Bryant  nodded,  but  Dave  spoke  up,  "A  cattleman  who 
went  by  here  yesterday,  an  old-timer,  said:  'When  Decem- 
ber's clear,  then  January's  drear.' ' 

"And  an  old-timer  once  told  me  that  same  thing  when 
I  was  building  a  railroad  grade  in  Kansas,"  Pat  remarked, 
"and  I  had  to  ship  in  palm-leaf  fans  and  ice  to  keep  my 
'paddies'  from  fainting  with  the  January  heat."  A  slight 

147 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

exaggeration,  to  be  sure,  but  showing  the  old  contractor's 
contempt  for  wise  saws  pertaining  to  weather.  Yet  no  one 
understood  more  than  he  the  law  of  probabilities,  or  the 
balance  of  seasons.  Some  time  cold  must  follow  warmth, 
foul  follow  fair,  to  work  the  inevitable  mean.  And  it  was 
too  much  to  hope  that  this  natural  law  would  be  suspended 
for  them  until  the  middle  of  February. 

In  fact,  the  nights  while  remaining  clear  were  hardening. 
The  mercury  in  the  tube  sank  by  possibly  a  degree  every 
two  nights,  at  last  touching  zero;  and  it  correspondingly 
failed  to  arise  by  as  much  at  noon.  The  days  were  cruelly 
short.  Darkness  lasted  until  eight  in  the  morning;  it 
dropped  down  again  at  five.  The  frost  crept  deeper  into 
the  earth. 

But  construction  advanced.  The  dam  of  brush  and  un- 
cemented  smooth  brown  stones,  stretching  across  the  Pinas, 
was  gradually  rising.  The  hillside  section  of  ditch  through 
the  fields  was  finished  and  only  the  miners  continued  at  the 
granite  reef,  the  ring  of  their  hammers  on  drills  going 
steadily  and  the  roar  of  the  shots  now  and  again  booming 
out  at  nightfall.  Excavation  went  forward  in  the  spaces 
between  the  drops  on  the  ridge  leading  forth  upon  the  mesa. 
The  carpenters  had  finished  and  returned  to  Kennard.  The 
concrete  gang  had  moved  their  mixer  from  the  dam  to  the 
drops,  for  the  intake  gate  and  its  accompanying  flood  weir 
were  made,  and  Bryant  had  had  their  wooden  frames 
knocked  off  so  that  the  structures  stood  white  and  im- 
posing beside  the  dam,  like  pillars  of  accomplishment. 
From  Perro  Creek  the  main  camp  had  moved  toward  the 
northwest  on  the  arc  it  must  pursue,  until  its  tents  touched 

148 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

the  horizon  and  the  clean  yellow  trench,  fifteen  feet  wide  at 
the  bottom,  thirty  feet  wide  at  the  top,  and  five  feet  deep, 
with  its  flanking  embankments,  alone  was  left  behind,  a 
forced  and  undeviating  course  through  the  sagebrush,  the 
water  way  driven  by  a  determined  man. 


149 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Meanwhile  Lee,  under  relentless  pressure  of  work,  saw 
less  and  less  of  Ruth.  She  had  come  a  number  of  times  at 
the  beginning  of  the  drive,  sometimes  with  Gretzinger, 
sometimes  with  Imogene,  to  watch  the  feverish  spectacle  on 
the  mesa;  as  had  Louise  Graham,  her  father,  and  at  rare 
intervals  Mr.  McDonnell.  Bryant,  on  his  part,  had  gone 
evenings  to  Santa  Creek  when  he  could  spare  an  hour,  and, 
for  that  matter,  when  he  could  not.  But  the  meetings 
with  her  were  infrequent,  and  always  left  him  with  a  sense 
of  inadequacy,  of  dissatisfaction,  because  partly  Ruth  and  he 
seemed  to  have  no  common  interests  and  partly  that  she  now 
let  her  affection  go  for  granted.  Her  talk  was  not  of  the 
subjects  usually  discussed  by  an  engaged  couple — of  their 
coming  marriage  (though  no  date  had  been  fixed)  and  a 
home  and  prospective  joys  together;  it  dealt  wholly  with 
amusements,  dances,  friends  at  Kennard.  And  though  her 
own  eyes  glistened  at  the  recital,  Lee's  lost  their  light  and  his 
speech  was  quenched.  For  his  was  the  role  of  an  outsider. 

Certain  friendships  that  she  maintained,  moreover,  were 
exceedingly  distasteful  to  him. 

"Ruth,  I've  nothing  against  your  going  around  so  much 
with  Gretzinger,"  he  said  one  evening,  "except  that  I  don't 
like  the  fellow  and  believe  he's  crooked,  and  it  may,  under 
the  circumstances,  create  gossip." 

150 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Nonsense,  Lee,  don't  be  jealous.  Gretzie  never  takes 
me  anywhere  except  in  a  crowd.  And  don't  say  he's 
crooked,  or  I  shall  be  angry." 

"Well,  let  him  pass,"  he  went  on.  "It's  Charlie  Meno- 
cal  I've  more  in  mind.  He  talks  openly  against  my  pro- 
ject; he  calls  me  a  thief  and  a  ruffian;  he's  an  avowed  enemy. 
Yet  you  run  around  with  him  as  if  that  were  of  no  importance, 
as  if  it  made  no  difference.  The  scoundrel  no  doubt  counts 
it  a  brilliant  bit  of  smartness  to  carry  about  in  his  car  the 
fiancee  of  the  man  he  hates,  and  brags  of  it.  It  reflects  on 
us  both,  Ruth.  I  ask  you  to  consider  my  feelings  at  least 
that  far." 

She  regarded  him  speculatively  for  a  time.  Then  the 
touch  of  obstinacy  hardened  her  chin  and  pushed  up  her 
under  lip  the  barest  trifle.  But  there  was  no  resentment  in 
her  voice  when  she  answered  and,  indeed,  her  tone  was  too 
casual. 

"Oh,  nobody  pays  any  particular  attention  to  what 
Charlie  says,"  she  remarked.  "You  surely  don't  really 
believe  what  you've  just  stated  about  his  bragging?  I  don't. 
Of  course,  he  hasn't  brains  like  Mr.  Gretzinger,  but  he's 
gentlemanly.  And  he's  very  kind.  And  so  is  Mr.  Menocal, 
his  father.  I've  eaten  dinner  with  a  party  of  young  folks 
at  their  house  twice.  Your  ideas  of  them  are  altogether 
wrong,  for  they've  been  at  pains  to  tell  me  that  a  business 
difference  like  that  with  you  shouldn't  affect  personal 
relations.  I  think  the  same.  But  that  isn't  all.  You 
never  take  me  anywhere,  you  won't  go  to  the  parties  and 
shows  and  things.  Am  I  to  sit  here  every  day  and  every 
night  at  Santa  Creek  until  your  canal  is  built?"  By  now 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

her  words  were  not  only  casual  but  carried  a  trace  of  dis- 
dainfulness. 

"No,  Ruth,"  said  he.  "I  want  you  to  have  a  good  time 
and  derive  every  pleasure  that  you  rightly  can.  My 
greatest  regret  is  that  I  can't  take  you  and  share  the  fun. 
But  it  goes  without  saying  that  I  can't.  Only,  Charlie 
Menocal " 

"Lee,  what's  got  into  you  to-night?  If  it  were  not  for 
Mr.  Gretzinger's  and  Charlie's  thoughtfulness,  I'd  have  died 
of  lonesomeness  long  before  this.  You  know  how  I  hate 
this  life,  this  homestead  business.  You  know  I'm  only 
waiting  until  you've  finished  and  we  can  be  married  and  go 
away  where  there  is  something  worth  while.  Now  be 
reasonable.  You  work  too  hard,  so  that  every  little  speck 
looks  like  a  mountain.  And  it's  making  you  narrow,  too, 
or  will  if  you  don't  watch  out.  I  have  to  kill  time  somehow 
till  we  can  be  married  and  so  you  ought  not  to  find  fault 
with  my  doing  it.  Run  along  over  and  talk  to  Imo  in  her 
cabin  now,  Lee;  that's  a  good  boy.  I  didn't  get  back 
home  from  town  last  night  until  after  midnight,  and 
I'm  sleepy." 

He  did  not  go  to  Imo's  cabin,  but  to  camp  instead.  For 
the  bitterness  of  his  disappointment  at  his  failure  to  move 
her  made  him  desire  the  darkness  and  solitude  of  the  ride 
home.  With  her,  it  seemed,  he  was  in  a  worse  predicament 
than  he  had  been  when  faced  with  the  problem  of  his  ditch; 
for  that  he  had  found  an  answer,  found  something  to  take 
hold  of.  But  she  was  not  like  the  mesa,  to  be  mastered  by 
sheer  will  and  incessant  labour.  Character  is  intangible,  and 
he  found  himself  balked.  One  cannot  lay  hands  on  the 

152 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

desires  in  a  heart  and  pluck  them  out,  or  on  the  spirit  and 
twist  it  straight. 

His  bitterness  became  acute  when  some  time  later 
Charlie  Menocal  came  driving  with  Ruth  along  the  rutted 
trail  by  the  canal  to  where  he  stood  inspecting  a  new  drop. 

"You  wait,  Charlie;  I'll  not  be  long,"  she  said,  as  she 
alighted.  "Come  with  me  out  of  earshot,  will  you,  Lee?" 

They  moved  to  a  spot  that  satisfied  her. 

"I  heard  you  were  doing  this  and  I  asked  Charlie  to 
bring  me  here,"  she  began.  "I  wanted  to  see  for  myself. 
And  it's  true.  You're  going  ahead  and  make  these  things 
out  of  concrete.  I'm  indignant,  I'm  hurt.  After  you  led 
me  to  rely " 

Bryant  stopped  her  sharply. 

"No,  Ruth,  not  that.  I'm  sorry  that  you  gained  the 
impression  I  should  use  wood  instead  of  concrete;  and  it 
never  was  in  my  mind  to  do  so,  to  use  wood.  My  decision 
was  fully  made  when  you  raised  the  matter  in  the  hotel 
parlour  at  Kennard,  and  I  explained  my  reasons  for  the 
decision.  I  didn't  tell  you  bluntly,  perhaps.  I  waited, 
trusting  that  you  would  come  round  to  my  way  of  thinking 
and  realize  that  I  could  only  follow  my  own  best  judgment." 

"I  haven't  changed  my  mind  not  one  particle,"  she  ex- 
claimed, vehemently. 

"But,  Ruth " 

"I  think  you're  throwing  away  good  money,  deliberately. 
That  is,  if  you  really  ever  make  any  money  on  your  project. 
You  may  lose  everything." 

"I  may  not,  also.  But  if  I  should,  the  father  of  the 
fellow  sitting  in  the  car  yonder  waiting  for  you  would  be 

153 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

responsible.  As  for  these  drops,  Ruth,  Gretzinger  was 
wrong  and  I  was  right,  and  so  they're  being  built  of  con- 
crete. Now  please  forget  all  about  it." 

"And  that  you  refused  my  request,  I  suppose." 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  can't  do  that;  it's  too  much  to  ask."  An  angry 
gleam  shot  from  her  eyes.  "You  might  have  thought 
more  of  me  and  less  of  yourself.  You  put  your  old  canal 
first  and  me  second."  With  which  she  swung  about  and 
marched  off  to  the  car,  and  it  went  away,  rocking  and 
lurching  down  the  uneven  trail. 

Lee  stood  looking  after  it.  Her  last  words  brought  up 
the  memory  of  the  occasion  when  she  had  playfully  uttered 
the  like,  one  night  in  August,  with  the  added  inquiry, 
"What  if  you  had  to  choose  between  us?"  Were  things 
drifting  to  such  an  issue?  Would  she  at  last  force  upon 
him  that  hard  choice?  He  flung  up  a  hand  in  a  gesture  of 
despair.  Some  metamorphosis  had  occurred  in  her;  she 
was  not  the  simple  and  loving  Ruth  to  whom  he  had  offered 
himself  that  day  they  picked  berries  in  the  canon.  Or  was 
it  that  only  now  her  real  self  was  revealed?  Was  it  that  she 
was  capable  of  loving  only  selfishly?  Did  she  love  him  at 
all? 

The  questions  bit  like  acid  into  his  heart.  And  a  new  one, 
that  startled  and  dismayed  his  soul:  Did  he  love  her? 
Yes — the  Ruth  she  yet  was.  But  he  could  never  love  the 
woman  she  seemed  on  the  way  to  become,  breathing  an 
exciting  and  unhealthy  atmosphere,  seeking  purely  personal 
gain,  indifferent  to  worthy  objects,  selfish,  hard,  mercenary, 
worldly.  No,  that  kind  of  Ruth  would  kill  love. 

154 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

He  still  stood  there  when  Morgan,  who  had  been  on  an 
errand  to  headquarters,  came  galloping  back  on  his  way  to 
the  dam. 

"Accident  down  below,"  he  said.  "Man  hurt  in  the 
mixer.  Arm  crushed." 

Bryant  jerked  his  head  about  to  look  at  the  drop  two 
hundred  yards  farther  down  the  ridge.  He  saw  the  work- 
men grouped  together.  The  huge  cylindrical  machine  was 
motionless. 

"I'll  see,"  he  exclaimed,  hurrying  to  his  runabout. 

He  drove  recklessly  to  where  the  injured  man  lay,  helped 
lift  him  into  the  car,  and  bidding  the  foreman  stand  on  the 
running  board  and  support  the  unconscious  labourer,  set  off 
for  headquarters  at  such  speed  as  was  possible.  Into  the 
low  shack  used  for  hospital  purposes  the  two  carried  their 
charge,  and  as  the  doctor  was  absent  Bryant  began  a  search 
to  find  him.  He  ran  down  the  camp  street  shouting  the 
doctor's  name  and  along  the  ditch  where  the  teams  moved, 
until  he  encountered  Carrigan. 

"Doc  ain't  here.  Who's  hurt?"  Pat  asked.  For  a  call 
for  the  doctor  could  mean  but  one  thing. 

Bryant  described  the  nature  of  the  accident  and  both 
men  hastened  back  to  the  hospital.  The  door  was  now 
closed.  Before  it  stood  the  foreman  of  the  concrete  gang, 
who  was  narrating  for  the  benefit  of  a  group  of  cooks  and 
freighters  details  of  the  mishap. 

Bryant  turned  the  knob,  but  the  door  was  locked. 

"He  stationed  me  here  to  keep  men  out,"  the  foreman 
said. 

"Then  he's  in  there." 

155 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Yes,  came  a-mnning.  Was  loafing  out  there  in  the 
brush  and  having  a  smoke.  Said  he  was  going  to  operate  at 
once,  then  locked  the  door." 

"  Not  alone ! "  Lee  exclaimed. 

"No,  he  has  help.  One  of  the  engineers  from  the  office, 
who  had  come  trotting  over  to*  see  what  was  wrong,  and  a 
girl." 

"A  girl!    What  girl?  " 

The  foreman  shook  his  head. 

"Don't  know  who  she  is.  She  came  riding  in  from  the 
south.  When  she  saw  us  hustling  round,  she  asked  what 
had  happened  and  jumped  off  her  horse  and  inquired  of  the 
Doc  whether  she  could  be  of  any  help.  He  looked  at  her, 
then  said  yes.  She's  in  there  now.  One  of  the  men  is 
caring  for  her  horse." 

"A  bay  horse?" 

"Yes.  And  a  pretty  girl,  too.  I'd  almost  lose  an  arm  to 
have  a  good-looker  like  her  hovering  over  me." 

"All  right,  Jenks.  You  can  go  back  now.  Get  another 
man  for  your  crew  from  Morgan.  I'll  obtain  this  fellow's 
name  and  his  address,  if  he  has  any,  from  the  time-keeper, 
in  case  he  passes  in  his  checks." 

The  foreman  started  away.  The  group  before  the  door 
disintegrated  and  presently  disappeared.  Pat  glanced  at 
the  sun,  lighted  a  cigar,  and  asked: 

"Do  we  start  a  night  shift?  " 

"Yes;  whenever  you  can  bring  in  the  men." 

"Then  I'll  wire  for  some  right  away.  The  thermometer 
was  five  below  this  morning,  and  only  twenty-two  above 
this  noon.  She's  cold  at  last." 

156 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"  Go  to  it,  Pat.     I'll  stay  here  till  Doc  is  through." 

When  Carrigan  had  left  him,  Bryant  sat  down  on  a  dis- 
carded oil  tin  lying  on  the  ground — one  of  the  square  ten- 
gallon  cans  common  about  camps.  He  gazed  at  the  door 
of  the  hospital  shack.  He  could  hear  faint  sounds  from 
within,  a  footfall  on  the  board  floor,  an  indistinct  word  or 
murmur.  Behind  him  and  farther  down  the  street,  in  the 
big  cook  tents  where  the  crews  ate,  was  the  rattle  of  pans 
and  an  occasional  oath  or  burst  of  laughter.  There  the 
cooks  were  peeling  potatoes  and  mixing  great  pans  of  bis- 
cuit dough  and  exchanging  jests,  while  here  in  the  shack  a 
fight  was  going  on  for  a  life. 

Bryant  saw  again  that  unshaven,  heavy-faced  workman, 
with  the  terribly  mangled  arm,  whom  he  had  brought 
hither.  Poor  devil!  Some  oversight,  some  carelessness, 
some  mistake  on  the  part  of  himself  or  another;  and  if  not  a 
dead  man,  then  one-armed  for  the  rest  of  his  days.  He, 
Bryant,  could  not  consider  these  accidents  with  Pat 
Carrigan's  philosophic  calm — a  calm  acquired  from  decades 
of  camp  tragedies  and  disasters.  They  harrowed  his 
spirit.  Though  they  appeared  inevitable  where  men 
delved  or  builded  or  flung  forth  great  spans,  they  made  the 
cost  of  constructive  works  seem  too  great.  They  took  the 
glamor  from  projects  and  left  them  hard,  grim,  uninspiring 
tasks. 

Lee  felt  a  weariness  like  that  of  age.  The  strain  under 
which  he  laboured,  the  sustained  effort  of  driving  this  furrow 
through  earth  that  was  like  iron,  his  unavailing  endeavours 
to  reclaim  Ruth,  afflictions  such  as  this  of  the  past  hour,  the 
uncertainty  of  everything — all  sapped  his  energy  and 

157 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

shook  nis  faith.  Yet  before  him  there  were  weeks  of  the 
same,  or  worse.  He  had  put  his  hand  to  the  plow;  he  could 
not  turn  back. 

All  at  once  the  door  of  the  shack  opened.  Louise  Graham 
came  out,  without  hat,  garbed  in  a  great  white  surgical 
apron.  Her  knees  seemed  about  to  give  way.  Her  eyes 
were  half  shut.  Her  face  was  without  colour,  drawn,  dazed. 
With  her  from  the  interior  came  a  reek  of  chloroform. 

She  had  been  the  girl  in  there!  Bryant  had  guessed  it, 
feared  it.  He  ran  forward  and  put  an  arm  about  her 
shoulders  and  led  her  to  the  tin  oil  canister  on  which  he 
urged  her  to  be  seated. 

"No,  I  won't  faint,"  she  said,  weakly.  He  knelt  beside 
her  and  supported  her  form.  "I  just  feel  dizzy  and  a  little 
sick,"  she  went  on.  "Better  in  a  moment."  Lee  observed 
her  shudder.  Presently  she  murmured,  "Stuck  it  out, 
anyway.  Dad  says — dad  says,  'Never  be  a  quitter.' 
And  I  wasn't  one." 


IS8 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

Rymer,  a  sandy-haired,  blue-eyed  young  fellow,  one  of 
Bryant's  staff,  walked  out  of  the  shack,  pulling  on  his  coat. 
He  had  a  cigarette  in  the  corner  of  his  mouth,  at  which  he 
was  sucking  rapidly.  In  spite  of  its  dark  lacquer  of  tan  his 
face  had  a  grayish  tinge. 

"Sick?"  he  asked  of  Bryant,  jerking  a  nod  toward 
Louise  Graham. 

"A  bit.  Have  Doc  give  you  a  little  brandy  in  a  glass. 
And  bring  out  her  things,  too." 

Rymer  went  back  into  the  shack,  presently  returning 
with  the  liquor  and  accompanied  by  the  young  doctor,  who 
still  had  his  sleeves  rolled  up.  Louise  swallowed  the  fiery 
dram. 

"That — that  would  raise  the  dead!"  she  gasped,  wiping 
sudden  tears  from  her  eyes.  She  sat  up,  pushed  back  the 
hair  from  her  brow,  and  began  to  glance  about. 

"How's  your  man?"  Bryant  asked  the  doctor. 

"Right  as  a  trivet — if  no  complications  set  in.  Have 
him  stowed  on  a  cot  in  the  inner  room.  Bring  on  your  next." 

"You  ought  to  be  the  next,"  said  Lee,  darkly. 

"Because  I  grabbed  her?  Well,  I'll  use  her  another  time 
if  she's  about.  Steady  as  a  pin.  No  wasted  motion, 
either.  Passed  me  instruments  and  things  like  a  veteran 
nurse.  I  just  gave  a  nod  or  glance  and  she  had  the  right 

159 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

tray.  I  wanted  to  pat  her  on  the  shoulder.  Can't  give 
people  that  thing;  it's  a  born  knack.  Knowing  exactly 
what's  wanted  at  the  instant.  She  has  it,  has  it  to  the  tips 
of  her  fingers." 

Lee  said  no  more.  The  young  doctor  was  still  labouring 
under  the  excitement  of  the  past  hour  and  swimming  in 
exultation  at  performing  an  operation  that  would  have 
taxed  the  skill  of  an  experienced  surgeon.  It  had  been  one 
of  those  wicked  cases — arm  crushed  to  the  shoulder,  every- 
thing gone  into  a  hodge-podge  of  flesh  and  arteries  and 
splintered  bone,  a  case  for  fast  work  and  at  the  same  time 
for  delicate  closure  of  the  stump.  This  had  been  thrust  at 
Higginson  like  a  flash,  he  out  of  a  medical  school  but  a  year 
and  a  half,  still  coaxing  a  moustache,  so  to  speak.  Lee  per- 
ceived it  all.  The  matter  for  Higginson  had  been  like  the 
ditch  with  Bryant:  something  tremendous,  something  to  be 
met  with  the  means  at  hand,  something  to  be  accomplished 
at  all  costs.  And  now  his  brain  was  ringing  with  triumph. 
He  was  superior  to  anything  Bryant  might  think  or  say  or 
do.  For  the  moment  he  was  quite  ecstatic.  One  in  his 
exalted  state  could  conceive  nothing  unmeet  in  having 
haled  a  strange,  sensitive  girl  into  the  ghastly  business  for 
an  assistant. 

"I'll  conduct  Miss  Graham  to  my  office,  where  she  can 
remain  until  she's  wholly  herself,"  Bryant  said.  "This  air 
is  too  sharp.  You  have  everything,  Rymer — cap,  coat, 
gauntlets?  Bring  them  along." 

"But  I'm  feeling  better  now,"  Louise  protested. 

"You're  not  yet  fit  to  start  home.  Over  there  it's  warm 
and  quiet."  He  rose  to  help  her  remove  the  great  apron. 

100 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

In  the  shack  at  the  head  of  the  street  where  he  led  her, 
he  made  her  comfortable  In  an  old  arm-chair  from  his  ranch 
house  with  a  Navajo  rug  over  her  lap.  As  he  stirred  up  the 
fire,  she  gazed  about  at  the  room.  In  one  corner  was  a 
desk  knocked  together  of  boards,  littered  with  papers; 
near  it  on  the  floor  were  boxes  stuffed  with  rolls  of  blue- 
prints; the  wall  spaces  between  windows  were  rilled  with 
statements  and  reports;  bulging  card-board  files  rested  on  a 
shelf;  from  nails  hung  an  old  coat  and  a  camera;  in  another 
corner  leaned  a  tripod,  rod,  and  a  six-foot  brass-edged 
measure  specked  with  clay;  and  piled  in  a  heap  beyond  the 
stove  were  a  saddle,  a  pair  of  boots,  chunks  of  pinon  pine, 
and  a  discarded  flannel  shirt  on  which  lay  a  gray  cat  nursing 
a  kitten.  Through  the  inner  door,  standing  open,  she  had  a 
glimpse  of  two  cots  with  tumbled  blankets.  The  place  was 
the  office  and  temporary  home  of  a  busy  man,  a  rough 
board-and-tar-paper  habitation  that  went  forward  on  skids 
as  the  camp  went  forward,  the  workshop  and  living- 
quarters  of  a  director  who  was  stripped  down  to  the  hard 
essentials  of  toil  and  whose  brain  was  the  nerve  centre  of  a 
desperate  effort  by  a  host  of  horses  and  men. 

"You  have  companions,  I  see,"  Louise  remarked,  indi- 
cating the  mother  cat  and  kitten. 

" Dave's,"  was  his  reply,  as  he  finished  at  the  stove.  "He 
found  them  somewhere.  There  were  four  kittens  to  begin 
with,  but  only  one  is  left.  It's  a  hard  game  for  cats  to 
survive  in  a  camp  like  this." 

"Poor  little  things!" 

"Dave  says  he'll  save  this  kitten,  or  know  why." 

"What  about  Dave  himself  with  all  these  rough  men?" 

161 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"It  leaves  him  untouched,"  Lee  said.  "Doesn't  hurt  a 
boy  when  he's  made  of  the  right  stuff.  He'll  be  better 
for  it,  in  fact.  Many  a  grown  man  would  be  more  com- 
petent with  the  knowledge  Dave's  picking  up  here,  young  as 
he  is.  He's  learning  what  work  means  and  what  men  are  and 
what's  what  generally.  When  this  job  is  done,  I'm  going  to 
send  him  off  to  school;  and  he'll  eat  up  his  studies.  Just 
watch  and  see."  Bryant  laughed.  "He's  aching  to  be- 
come an  engineer.  He  has  his  mark  already  fixed,  which 
not  one  boy  in  a  thousand  at  his  age  has.  And  all  this  is 
priming  him  to  go  to  his  mark  like  a  shot." 

"I  hadn't  thought  of  that,"  she  stated. 

"Actually  he's  soaking  up  more  arithmetic,  geology, 
physics,  veterinary  knowledge,  and  so  on,  by  pumping  Pat 
Carrigan,  the  engineers,  and  the  men,  than  I  supposed  his 
head  could  hold,"  Lee  continued.  "When  he  gets  at  his 
books,  they  won't  be  meaningless  things  to  him.  Not 
much!  He'll  understand  what  prompted  them  and  what 
they  open  up.  Well,  now,  are  you  feeling  better?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so."  Then  she  said,  "But  I'm  keeping 
you  away  from  your  work.  You  go,  and  when  I'm — 

"Wouldn't  think  of  it.  Nothing  pressing."  And  Bry- 
ant began  to  move  about  thoughtfully,  now  going  to  gaze 
out  a  window  and  now  returning  to  stand  and  fix  his  eyes 
upon  her  intently. 

"That  was  a  distressing  experience  for  you,"  he  went  on, 
presently.  "I  feel  all  upset  at  your  being  in  there.  Hig- 
ginson  was  desperate,  I  suppose,  and  grasped  at  you  because 
you  happened  to  be  there  and  he  could  not  wait." 

She  put  out  a  hand  toward  Lee. 

162 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Don't  scold  him  please,"  she  said. 

"Little  good  it  would  do  now,"  he  replied.  "He'll  be  so 
cocky  that  he'll  dare  me  to  fire  him  if  I  say  a  word,  and  grin 
in  my  face,  for  he  knows  now  that  he's  a  good  man  and  that 
I  know  it  and  will  never  let  him  go." 

"Higginson,  is  that  his  name?"  Louise  asked.  "Well,  he 
is  a  good  man.  When  he  started  the  engineer  using  the 
chloroform  and  me  arranging  things,  he  was  swallowing  hard. 
I  saw  he  was  terribly  nervous  and  keyed  up.  But  he  went 
right  at  the  operation  without  faltering  and  with  a  sort  of 
doggedness.  As  if  nothing  should  stop  him.  I  myself  was 
doing  rather  mistily  what  he  wanted.  The  chloroform,  the 
smell  of  antiseptics,  the  shiny  instruments,  the  cutting,  the 
nipping  of  blood-vessels  with  forceps  and  tying  them,  the 
clipping  with  scissors,  the  sewing — all  went  to  my  head. 
And  I  constantly  had  to  tell  myself,  'Don't  be  silly! 
You're  not  going  to  faint.  He  might  fail  if  you  did.  That 
tray,  those  forceps,  those  sponges,  that  thread,  that's  what 
he  wants  now.  Keep  your  head.  Don't  be  a  quitter/ 
And  so  on  through  eternity — it  seemed  an  eternity,  anyway. 
I  think  the  young  engineer  with  me  thought  so,  too.  He 
turned  quite  green  once  or  twice.  But  then  I  must  have 
looked  that  way  throughout.  All  at  once  it  was  over, 
suddenly.  Quite  unexpectedly,  too.  I  had  come  to  be- 
lieve that  it  would  go  on  and  on  forever.  But,  as  I  say, 
all  at  once  it  was  done  and  the  men  were  wheeling  the 
bandaged  fellow  into  the  other  room.  Then  the  doctor 
called  over  his  shoulder  at  me,  'Open  the  door,  girl;  let  in 
some  air.'  So  I  opened  it  as  he  wanted,  and  came  out." 

Bryant  was  greatly  affected  by  that  simple  recital.  He 

163 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

began  to  walk  back  and  forth  beside  Louise,  restlessly 
thrusting  his  hands  in  his  coat  pockets  but  immediately 
pulling  them  out  as  if  there  were  no  satisfaction  in  the 
action,  and  casting  troubled  glances  at  her  from  under  close- 
drawn  brows.  His  disquietude  moved  her  to  speak 

"You're  worrying  about  me,  Mr.  Bryant;  you  mustn't  do 
that.  In  a  few  minutes  more  I'll  be  entirely  recovered.  I 
should  be  foolish  to  pretend  that  the  happening  wasn't  a 
shock  to  me,  but  I'm  not  a  weakling — I've  health  and 
strength.  I'll  not  permit  the  thought  of  the  operation  to 
depress  my  spirits.  Indeed,  I  know  I'll  be  very  proud  of 
what  I  did  this  afternoon,  for  it  was  a  chance  to  do  a  real, 
disinterested  service.  And  I  can  guess  what  father  will  say 
when  he  learns  of  it — 'Louise,  you  did  just  right.  Exactly 
what  you  should  do  under  the  circumstances. ' ' 

Already  the  colour  had  reappeared  in  her  cheeks.  A 
resilience  of  nature  was  indeed  hers,  he  perceived,  that  en- 
abled her  to  undergo  ordeals  that  would  prostrate  many 
women.  It  came,  undoubtedly,  from  the  same  springs  out 
of  which  rose  her  splendid  courage,  her  fine  sympathy.  Ah, 
that  golden  quality  of  sympathy!  Because  of  it  her  duty 
that  day  had  seemed  plain  and  clear. 

"Louise — may  I  not  use  that  name,  for  we're  friends?— 
Louise,  you're  the  bravest,  kindest  girl  I  have  ever  known. 
I  mean  it,  really.  I've  never  forgotten  your  generous  act 
that  day  when  someone  so  brutally  killed  my  dog  Mike,  how 
you  tried  to  save  him.  I  didn't  know  you  then,  but  that 
made  no  difference  to  you.  And  now  when  you  find  an 
opportunity  to  help  save  a  man's  life,  you  never  flinch." 

"Why,  it's  the  natural  thing  to  do." 

164 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Is  it?  I  was  beginning  to  think  selfishness  was  the 
natural  thing,"  he  said,  with  a  hard,  twisted  smile. 

She  rested  her  hand  on  his  sleeve  for  an  instant.  A  smile 
and  a  shake  of  her  head  accompanied  the  action. 

"I  know  better  than  that,  Lee  Bryant,"  she  rejoined. 
"You're  not  selfish  yourself  and  will  never  arrive  at  a  time 
when  you'll  believe  what  you  said." 

"But  there  are  selfish  people,  many  of  them." 

"Yes.    Of  course." 

"And  one  can't  change  them,  and  they  cause  infinite 
anxiety  in  others " 

"Yes ;  that,  too.  Has  Mr.  Menocal  been  troubling  you  in 
some  new  way?" 

Lee  rose  hastily.  "I  wasn't  thinking  of  him,"  said  he; 
and  he  went  to  a  window  and  stared  out  at  the  engineers' 
shack  across  the  street.  Her  touch  on  his  arm,  her  tone,  her 
solicitude,  agitated  him  more  than  he  dared  let  her  see. 
Why  in  the  name  of  heaven  couldn't  he  have  a  Ruth  who 
was  like  her?  A  Ruth  who  was  a  Louise,  with  all  of  her 
lovable  qualities  and  splendid  courage  and  fine  nobility  of 
heart? 

He  swung  about  to  gaze  at  her.  She  yet  sat  half  turned 
in  her  seat  so  that  her  clear  profile  was  before  his  eyes.  Her 
soft  chestnut  hair  glinted  with  gleams  of  the  fire  that  escaped 
through  a  crack  in  the  door.  Her  features  were  in  repose. 
Something  in  her  attitude,  in  her  face,  gave  her  a  girlish 
appearance,  as  she  might  have  looked  when  sixteen — an 
infinite  candor,  an  innocence  and  simplicity,  that  alone  comes 
from  a  serene  spirit. 

Presently  he  discovered  that  she  had  moved  her  head 

165 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

about,  that  she  was  looking  straight  at  him.  Bryant  ex- 
perienced a  singular  emotion. 

"Some  serious  trouble  is  disturbing  you,"  she  said. 

Her  eyes  continued  fixed  upon  his,  increasing  his  un- 
easiness. He  felt  himself  flushing.  He  made  a  gesture  as 
if  whatever  it  was  might  be  disregarded,  then  said,  "Yes." 

"You're  not  still  anxious  concerning  me?  I'm  rested — 
see!" 

She  sprang  up,  casting  off  the  rug  and  spreading  her  arms 
wide  for  his  scrutiny.  The  heat  of  the  fire  had  put  the  glow 
into  her  cheeks  again;  a  smile  rested  on  her  lips;  she  seemed 
poised  for  an  upward  flight. 

"I'll  take  you  home,"  he  said,  abruptly. 

"Oh,  no.     I  can  ride " 

"One  of  the  boys  will  bring  your  horse  to  you  in  the  morn- 
ing," he  continued,  as  if  she  had  not  spoken.  "It  would 
be  dark  before  you  reached  home;  dusk  is  already  at  the 
windows.  And  you  would  be  chilled  through.  You've  no 
business  to  be  riding  after  what  you've  been  through.  I'll 
bring  my  car  to  the  door  while  you're  putting  on  your 
things." 

A  vague  fear  sent  him  out  of  the  door  quickly.  Rutn  in 
his  mind  was  like  a  figure  projected  far  off  in  the  landscape, 
occupied,  distant,  facing  away;  but  Louise  Graham  was  by, 
and  despite  his  wish  or  will,  or  her  knowledge,  drawing  his 
heart.  What  he  had  sought  in  Ruth  was  in  her  possession, 
the  possibility  of  happiness.  Life  had  deluded  him  and 
seemed  about  to  crush  him  in  a  savage  clutch.  As  he  moved 
along  the  street,  this  apprehension  lay  cold  in  his  breast;  he 
could  not  dismiss  it;  it  persisted  like  a  dull  throb  of  pain. 

1 66 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

A  sudden  fury  swept  him.  The  place  was  becoming  in- 
tolerable, the  mesa  a  hell.  He  burned  to  chuck  the  whole 
wretched  business. 

When  he  returned  with  the  car  he  was  at  least  outwardly 
calm.  He  helped  Louise  into  the  seat. 

"I'll  have  you  home  in  no  time,"  said  he. 

"And  you  must  stay  for  supper." 

"Yes;  why  not.     Might  as  well." 

"And  we'll  pick  up  the  girls;  all  of  us  can  crowd  in  here 
somewhere." 

The  slightest  pause  followed  before  his  answer. 

"Certainly,"  he  said.     "We  can  all  ride." 

Imogene's  cabin,  however,  was  the  only  one  showing  a 
light  when  they  stopped  before  the  pair  of  little  houses,  and 
only  Imogene  was  at  home.  She  was  delighted  to  go  with 
Lee  and  Louise.  Ruth  had  driven  with  Charlie  Menocal  to 
Kennard  earlier  in  the  afternoon,  she  briefly  stated.  Then 
she  remarked: 

"Aren't  you  dissipating  frightfully  to-night,  Lee?" 

"Like  a  regular  devil,"  was  the  response. 


167 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Imogene  had  been  startled  by  a  note  in  Lee's  answer  to 
her  bantering  question  that  she  never  before  had  heard  him 
use.  Though  his  words  were  uttered  lightly,  there  never- 
theless was  a  hard  ring  to  them,  a  grate,  as  if  his  teeth  were 
on  edge.  Something  had  happened.  Ruth  had  driven  dur- 
ing the  afternoon  to  see  him  and  returned  exceedingly  put 
out.  If  anything  had  occurred,  Imogene  hoped  it  was — • 
well,  one  certain  thing. 

When  Bryant  brought  her  home  that  evening,  he  went 
with  her  into  her  cabin.  In  silence  he  built  up  the  fire, 
fussed  for  a  time  with  the  lamp-wick,  lighted  a  cigarette, 
took  a  turn  across  the  cabin,  inspected  thoughtfully  the  back 
of  one  hand,  and  then  lifted  his  gaze  to  Imogene.  She  had 
been  waiting,  with  a  vague  alarm.  And  this  his  stern  visage 
and  burning  eyes  increased. 

"Will  Ruth  marry  me  at  once,  do  you  think?"  he  ques- 
tioned. "To-morrow — or  the  next  day?"  His  tone  was 
calm.  He  might  have  been  speaking  of  the  cabin,  asking  if 
it  kept  out  the  wind. 

Imogene  was  dumbfounded  by  that  voice  and  that  in- 
quiry. She  had  expected  anything  but  either. 

"Not  then;  not  so  soon,  I  suspect,"  she  said,  at  length. 

"When?    At  the  end  of  a  week,  the  end  of  a  fortnight?" 

"I  can't  say,"  she  replied  with  a  sensation  now  of  being 

168 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

harried.  This  would  not  do ;  she  must  get  herself  in  hand. 
"The  fact  is,  Lee,  I'm  not  in  Ruth's  confidence.  Haven't 
been  for  some  considerable  time.  We've  drifted  a  little 
apart." 

"Only  a  little?" 

"Only  a  little— I  hope." 

The  cigarette  Bryant  held  had  gone  out.  Presently  he 
glanced  at  it,  then  crushed  it  in  his  palm  and  dropped  it  into 
a  coat  pocket. 

"  Don't  fence  with  me,  Imogene,"  he  said.  "  Give  me  the 
truth." 

The  truth — well,  why  not?  He  was  entitled  to  it.  Besides, 
since  he  had  eyes  and  a  brain  with  which  to  reason  he  was 
not  ignorant  of  the  girls'  waning  friendship.  Pretense  was 
foolish.  Imogene  leaned  forward  in  her  seat  and  rested  her 
crossed  arms  upon  her  knees,  directing  her  look  at  the  floor. 
Her  fluffy  golden  hair  had  been  slightly  disarranged  when 
she  removed  her  hat  and  so  remained.  Her  face  was  thinner 
than  in  the  summer,  with  a  pinched  aspect  about  her  lips. 

"The  situation  is  this,"  she  began,  slowly.  "Ruth  and  I 
are  not  really  on  good  terms  and  we've  been  perilously  near 
a  break  several  times.  But  I've  restrained  my  temper  and 
my  tongue  to  avoid  one,  because  I  feel  I  must  remain  as 
long  as  she  does.  No,  I  can't  leave  her  here  alone — that 
would  be  brutal.  And  ruinous  for  her,  too.  I've  thought 
it  all  out  pretty  carefully.  You  see,  we  both  agreed  to  stay 
when  we  came,  until  we  agreed  to  go  or  had  proved  up  on 
our  claims.  Probably  I  don't  make  myself  very  clear  to 
you.  I  think,  now  that  I  made  a  mistake  and  that  neither  of 
us  ought  ever  to  have  attempted  homesteading.  So  much 

169 


has  happened  that  is  different  from  what  I  anticipated. 
Not  the  existence  itself;  I  don't  mean  that.  Other  things. 
Ruth's  change,  chiefly.  See,  Lee,  I  speak  frankly,  for  we've 
usually  been  frank  toward  each  other.  You  two  are  en- 
gaged, but" — she  straightened  up  in  order  to  meet  his 
eyes — "she's  treating  you  abominably  and  shamelessly. 
Ordinarily,  I  would  hold  my  peace,  I've  held  it  hitherto,  but 
I  can  no  longer.  Why,  I  choke  sometimes!  Going  con- 
stantly with  Gretzinger,  who's  so  despicable  that  he  tries  to 
use  her  as  a  tool  to  reach  and  corrupt  you,  or  Charlie  Meno- 
cal,  who's  your  out-and-out  enemy,  it's  too  much  for  me, 
Lee.  And  uncle  and  aunt  are  furious  with  me  for  staying. 
She  listen  to  me?  Ruth  listens  neither  to  me  nor  any  one." 
She  rose  and  came  close  to  Bryant.  "You're  right  to  marry 
her  immediately.  If  you  two  love  each  other,  that  is." 
Her  look  was  penetrating,  questioning.  "For  she  needs  a 
restraining  influence.  People  in  Kennard  are  talking " 

" My  God ! "  Bryant  cried,  hoarsely.  "No,  no ;  not  Ruth ! 
She  couldn't 'do  anything  wrong!" 

"No,  there's  nothing  bad.  But  she  has  given  grounds  for 
gossip,  she  and  some  other  girls.  She  sees  too  much  of  this 
Gretzinger  and  Charlie  Menocal  and  men  like  them;  and  the 
time  may  come  when  I'll  tremble.  I've  begged  her  to  be 
discreet  and  considerate  of  your  good  opinion  and  love,  but 
she  always  declares  that  she's  acting  eminently  proper. 
Lee."  % 

"Yes." 

"There's  something  more.  Gretzinger's  not  only  finding 
amusement  in  her  company,  he's  in  love  with  her.  After 
the  women  he's  been  accustomed  to  in  New  York,  the  rouged 

170 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

and  jaded  type  he  naturally  would  know,  her  freshness  and 
spirits  appeal  to  him.  But  you  know  what  sort  of  man  he  is 
— cynical,  unscrupulous,  without  principles." 

A  long  time  passed  before  Bryant  made  a  response.  He 
stood  knitting  his  brows,  as  if  preoccupied.  Imogene  won- 
dered if  he  had  been  following  her  at  the  last. 

"I'll  speak  to  him  about  his  principles  in  connection  with 
Ruth,"  he  said.  The  utterance  was  amazingly  dispassion- 
ate. Then  quite  unexpectedly  he  remarked,  "I've  never  yet 
had  to  kill  a  man,  never  as  yet." 

Imogene  shuddered,  and  she  was  terrified.  It  was  as  if  a 
curtain  had  been  jerked  aside  disclosing  figures  grouped  for 
tragedy. 

"It  must  never  come  to  that,"  she  breathed. 

Bryant  stirred,  then  began  to  look  about  the  room.  He 
grew  observant. 

"  This  is  bad  for  you,  Imogene,"  he  said,  presently.  "  Im- 
possible !  Your  uncle  is  right.  This  wretched  cabin  doesn't 
keep  out  cold  or  wind;  you  have  to  chop  wood  and  carry 
water,  tasks  beyond  your  strength;  you're  lonely,  you're  ill 
at  times " 

"And  Ruth?" 

"Well?" 

"You  know  her  situation.     Financial,  I  mean." 

"I  less  than  any  one  know  it.  Extraordinary,  too,  now 
that  I  think  of  it,"  he  said,  reflectively.  "What  is  her 
situation?"  Immediately  he  added,  "Of  course,  I  guess 
that  she  has  no  great  means  and  she  has  said  that  she  lacks 
training  to  earn  a  livelihood.  But  her  family?  " 

"She  lived  with  an  aunt  until  she  came  here,  Lee." 

171 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"So  she  mentioned." 

"They  didn't  get  on  well  together  after  Ruth  went  to  stay 
with  her  on  her  parents'  death,"  Imogene  explained.  "The 
woman  was  narrow-minded  and  exacting,  especially  in  mat- 
ters of  amusements  and  religion.  You  know  the  type." 
Bryant  nodded.  "And  Ruth  was  young,  exuberant,  and, 
as  I  now  see,  wilful.  Their  clashes  were  the  cause  of  her 
desire  to  come  West.  We  had  been  good  friends,  but  not 
intimates;  and  I  marvel  at  myself  now  at  having  gone  so 
rashly  into  a  thing  like  this,  without  inquiring  whether  our 
habits,  tastes,  desires,  natures,  everything,  fitted  us  for  pro- 
longed companionship.  Yes,  I  marvel."  She  sat  motion- 
less, staring  at  the  lamp  fixedly.  "However,  I'm  in  it  now 
up  to  my  neck.  Ruth  declares  that  she  will  never  return  to 
her  aunt." 

"And  she  can't  earn  a  living." 

"Nor  would  if  she  could,  I  fear,"  Imogene  added,  a  little 
sadly.  "At  least,  now.  It  would  be  too  dull." 

"Then  I  must  marry  her  at  once." 

Imogene  gave  him  a  strange  look. 

"She  is  waiting,"  said  she. 

"  For  marriage?  " 

"No,  to  see  how  you  succeed.  Oh,  to  have  to  say  these 
things  is  dreadful,  Lee!"  she  exclaimed.  But  Bryant 
brushed  this  aside  with  a  gesture  almost  august  in  its  in- 
difference. "If  you  finish  your  project  on  time,  she  will  be 
ready  for  the  ceremony,"  the  girl  went  on.  "If  you  fail, 
she'll  postpone  it  until  you're  able  to  provide  more  than  just 
a  roof,  a  chair,  and  a  broom.  Her  very  words!  Love  must 
not  prevent  people  from  being  practical,  from  her  view- 

172 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

point.  So,  as  I  say,  she's  waiting  to  discover  the  outcome." 
A  corner  of  her  mouth  twisted  up  while  she  paused.  Then 
she  concluded  in  a  low  voice,  "And  probably  something 
else." 

Bryant  had  again  fallen  into  study.  Imogene  doubted 
if  he  had  heard  her  added  remark,  and  she  could  not  divine 
from  his  countenance  how  fierce  or  in  what  direction  his 
covered  passion  was  beating. 

"It  will  be  too  late,"  said  he,  suddenly  and,  as  it  seemed  to 
her,  irrelevantly. 

Then  she  thought  that  she  understood. 

"He's  going  home  in  a  few  days,  for  the  Christmas  holi- 
days," she  stated.  "  Possibly  then  Ruth  will — I'm  planning 
for  us  all  to  be  at  uncle's,  you  with  us." 

"  Gretzinger  wasn't  in  my  mind." 

"You  said  'too  late',"  she  pursued.  "Naturally  I  sup- 
posed your  reference  to  be  of  them." 

The  gravity  of  his  face  deepened. 

"I  was  thinking  of  myself,"  said  he,  turning  his  eyes  upon 
her.  "If  we're  not  married  soon,  very  soon,  it  will  be  too 
late.  I  mean  that  it  would  be  a  mockery.  For  me,  at  any 
rate.  One  may  wish  to  go  one  way,  and  be  swept  another, 
especially  when  the  mooring  line  is  slack."  His  breast  rose 
and  fell  at  a  quick,  agitated  breath.  "But  promise  me  that 
you'll  not  speak  of  this  to  Ruth." 

"The  very  thing  to  bring  her  round,  perhaps." 

"More  likely  to  fill  her  with  despair." 

This  was  something  Imogene  could  not  grasp.  It  was  so 
inexplicable,  so  extravagant,  so  perverse,  that  her  cheeks 
grew  hot. 

173 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

" I  can't  follow  you  at  all,"  she  cried,  indignantly.  "Ruth 
alarmed,  jealous,  in  doubt — yes,  I  can  credit  her  with  any 
one  of  those  feelings.  But  despair!  She  lays  her  plans  too 
far  ahead  to  be  led  into  despair." 

"Even  if  she  knew  I  had  ceased  to  love  her?  When  she 
understood  our  marriage  would  be  a  hollow  ceremony?" 

"Would  it  be  that  if  you  succeed  with  your  project?" 

Bryant's  eyes  blazed  suddenly. 

" Great  God,  you  talk  as  if  she  were  to  marry  the  canal!" 
he  exclaimed.  He  glowered  for  a  time.  "I  see  now  what 
you  mean.  You  believe  she  would  marry  me  if  I  win  out 
with  the  ditch.  Being  practical,  she  would  accept  money 
as  a  substitute  for  love.  That  reminds  me:  she  herself  once 
declared  that  if  circumstances  necessitated  she  could  take  a 
rich  man  for  his  riches."  Bryant  uttered  a  harsh  laugh. 
"My  Lord,  I  was  frightened  lest  in  a  fit  of  anguish  at  losing 
my  love  she  should  go  to  the  devil ! "  Again  he  yielded  to  an 
outburst  of  laughter  that  made  Imogene  shudder.  "I  fancied 
that  at  finding  herself  out  of  money,  unable  to  work,  dis- 
inclined to  work,  unloved,  miserable,  she  would  recklessly 
hurl  herself  into  perdition.  And  I  was  going  to  save  her 
from  that,  marry  her  at  once,  sacrifice  myself!  Like  an 
egotistical  fool!  When  all  the  while  there  was  never  the 
slightest  danger  or  need,  when  all  the  while  she  held  the 
string,  not  I.  And  love  isn't  a  consideration  whatever. 
And  she  will  marry  me  when  I've  completed  the  project. 
And  complete  it  I  must,  of  course.  Not  a  way  out,  not  a 
single  loop-hole.  Oh,  my  Lord,  my  Lord,  Imogene,  did  you 
ever  know  of  anything  so  devilishly  laughable!"  And  his 
bitter,  sardonic  merriment  broke  forth  anew. 

174 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

The  girl  was  appalled.  All  she  could  do  was  to  gasp, 
"Oh,  Lee,  Lee!  Don't  laugh  like  that,  don't  think  of  it  like 
that.  You  make  it  out  worse  than  it  is. " 

He  stopped  short.  By  his  look  he  might  have  detested 
her. 

"I  state  it  as  it  is,"  he  said.  "Wherein  is  the  actual 
situation  better?" 

"You  could  break  your  engagement;  certainly  she  has 
given  you  sufficient  cause." 

"Yes,  break  with  her,  as  might  you.     Why  don't  you?" 

Imogene  put  out  a  hand  in  protest. 

"You  know  why,  Lee;  I've  told  you,"  she  said,  earnestly. 

"No  more  can  I,  for  the  same  reason,"  was  his  reply.  He 
turned  and  lifted  his  hat  and  gloves  from  the  table.  "I 
will  have  no  act  of  mine  cut  her  adrift  and  push  her  under. 
Much  better  to  stand  the  gaff.  I  suppose  one  hardens  to 
anything  in  time."  His  look  wandered  about  the  room. 
"And  the  diabolic  part  of  it  all  is  that  this  squeamish  feeling 
of  responsibility  for  another  may  achieve  as  much  harm  in 
the  long  run  as  its  lack.  Who  knows?" 

He  glanced  at  her  as  if  expecting  an  answer.  Imogene 
remained  silent;  indeed,  nothing  need  be  said  to  so  evident 
an  enigma.  For  that  matter,  nothing  more  said  at  all. 
Bryant  drew  on  his  gloves  and  bade  her  good-night.  At 
the  door  he  remarked,  quite  in  his  accustomed  manner: 

"I'll  send  Dave  over  in  the  morning  with  more  blankets 
and  have  him  chop  some  wood.  There's  a  drop  in  the 
temperature  coming." 


175 


CHAPTER   XX 

The  predicted  cold  weather  came,  bringing  winter  in  earn- 
est. The  frost  went  deeper  into  the  ground  and  construc- 
tion grew  slower,  but  the  days  continued  fine  and  without 
gales,  those  fierce  and  implacable  winds  that  sometimes  rage 
over  the  frozen  mesa  hours  at  a  time  under  a  dull,  saffron 
sun,  sharp  as  knives,  shrieking  like  demons,  and  driving  man 
and  beast  to  cover.  They  had  not  yet  been  unleashed. 

Night  work  was  begun,  amid  a  flare  of  gasolene  torches 
that  gave  a  weird  aspect  to  the  plain.  The  yellow  lights; 
the  moving,  shadowy  forms  of  the  workmen  and  horses;  the 
cries  and  shouts — all  made  a  scene  gnome-like  in  character. 
Frost  gleamed  upon  the  earth  in  a  silvery  sheen  under  the 
torches'  smoky  flames.  The  headquarters  building  and  the 
mess  tents  now  glowed  from  dusk  until  dawn.  Fires  where 
workmen  could  warm  their  cheeks  and  hands  were  burning 
continually,  fed  from  the  great  piles  of  wood  brought  from 
the  mountains.  And  so  by  day  and  by  night,  without  halt 
and  despite  cold,  the  restless  life  was  maintained  and  the 
toil  kept  going  and  the  hard  furrow  driven  ahead. 

With  the  approach  of  Christmas  the  advance  of  the  pro- 
ject was  marked.  The  dam  was  nearing  completion,  with  its 
long,  gently  inclined,  upstream  face  constructed  of  smooth 
cobbles — a  slope  up  which  any  vast  and  sudden  rush  of  cloud- 
burst water  would  slide  unchecked  to  the  crest  and  harmlessly 

176 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

pass  over.  All  of  the  drops,  as  well  as  the  head-gate  and 
flood  weirs,  were  finished,  standing  as  if  hewn  out  of  solid 
white  stone.  The  miners  had  blasted  out  a  channel  through 
the  reef  of  rock,  and  gone.  From  the  dam  the  canal  section 
all  along  the  hillside  and  following  the  ridge,  from  drop  to 
drop,  and  out  to  a  point  on  the  mesa  a  mile  beyond,  was  ex- 
cavated, a  great  clean  ditch;  while  from  Perro  Creek  the 
canal  ran  northward  for  six  miles  to  the  main  camp,  curving 
in  the  great  arc  that  constituted  its  line.  Three  and  a  half 
miles,  and  complements,  constructed  at  one  end;  six  miles 
at  the  other.  Between,  five  miles  of  unbroken  mesa.  Seven 
weeks  remained  for  the  small  camp  working  down  from  the 
north  and  the  great  camp  pushing  from  the  south  to  dig 
through  those  miles  and  meet — seven  weeks;  but  in  the  most 
bitter  season  of  the  year. 

It  seemed  that  it  was  with  infinitely  greater  effort  that  the 
two  sections  of  the  canals  were  forced  ahead  each  day.  The 
surface  of  •  the  ground  was  like  stone,  only  by  repeated 
attempts  pierced  by  plows  and  torn  apart;  while  the  subsoil 
immediately  froze  if  left  unworked.  The  weaker  labourers 
began  to  break:  the  scrawny  Mexicans,  the  debilitated  white 
men,  the  drifters  and  the  dissatisfied;  and  they  left  the  camps. 
These  the  labour  agencies  found  it  harder  and  harder  to  re- 
place as  the  cold  weather  persisted,  so  that  the  force  showed 
a  considerable  diminishment. 

A  few  days  before  Christmas  Gretzinger  paid  Bryant  a 
visit.  He  had  not  been  to  camp  for  a  week  and  therefore  on 
this  occasion  examined  the  progress  of  work  with  care, 
studying  the  rate  of  excavation  and  calculating  the  result. 

"You'll  just  about  make  it  through,  Bryant,  if  nothing 

177 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

happens  to  put  a  crimp  in  your  advance,"  he  stated  when 
he  was  about  to  take  his  departure  from  the  office,  where  he 
and  Lee  conferred. 

"Yes,"  said  Bryant. 

"And  if  anything  should  happen,  then  good-bye  canal." 

"That  doesn't  necessarily  follow,"  said  Lee,  calmly. 

Gretzinger  ignored  this  reply.  He  thrust  an  arm  into  his 
fur-lined  overcoat  and  began  to  draw  it  on.  That  even- 
ing he  was  leaving  Kennard  for  New  York,  and  now 
was  desirous  of  returning  to  town  by  noon,  where  he  had 
a  luncheon  engagement  with  Ruth  Gardner.  He  had 
casually  mentioned  to  Bryant  that  the  girls  had  gone  the 
day  before  to  the  McDonnells  for  the  holidays. 

"My  people  were  certainly  handed  a  phony  deal  here," 
he  remarked  shortly,  as  he  buttoned  the  coat  collar  about 
his  throat.  "Questionable  title  to  the  water!  Extrava- 
gance and  poor  management!  Rotten  project  all  through! 
If  I  had  lined  this  thing  up,  I  should  have  learned  what  I 
actually  had  before  a  cent  was  expended.  But  of  course 
if  the  thing  goes  smash,  we  in  the  East  have  to  stand  the 
loss;  you're  losing  no  cash,  you  have  nothing  in  it  but  a 
shoestring.  Well,  I'm  expecting  you  to  put  your  back  into 
the  job  and  do  no  loafing  and  pull  us  out  of  the  hole  you've 
got  us  into." 

Bryant's  face  remained  impassive. 

"I'll  attend  to  my  end,"  said  he,  "if  the  bondholders  take 
care  of  theirs.    They'll  have  to  dig  up  more  cash." 
"What's  that!" 

"More  money,  I  said." 

"They'll  see  you  in  hell  before  they  do." 

178 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Then  that's  where  they'll  look  for  payment  of  their 
bonds.  You're  not  fool  enough,  are  you,  to  imagine  a 
system  can  be  built  in  winter  and  under  high  pressure  for 
what  it  could  be  constructed  in  summer  and  not  hi  haste? 
Strange  the  idea  never  occurred  to  you  before — you,  Gret- 
zinger,  irrigation  expert,  though  you  never  saw  an  irrigation 
ditch  till  you  came  West.  The  sixty  thousand  dollars  from 
bonds  and  twenty  thousand  more  I've  put  with  it  will  be 
gone  sometime  next  month.  Possibly  I  can  stretch  it  out 
to  the  first  of  February.  After  that,  the  bondholders  will 
have  to  come  forward  to  save  their  investment." 

Gretzinger  unbuttoned  his  overcoat  and  sought  his 
cigarette  case.  His  scowl  as  he  struck  a  match  was  lighted 
by  vicious  gleams  from  his  eyes. 

"Why  didn't  you  stop  work  when  you  received  notifica- 
tion from  the  state  engineer  of  the  Land  and  Water  Board's 
action?"  he  demanded.  "When  you  yet  had  the  bulk  of 
the  money?" 

"I  preferred  to  continue." 

"And  now  you're  sinking  it  all." 

"It  costs  money  to  move  frozen  dirt,"  said  Bryant. 

"Well,  I  tell  you  the  bondholders  won't  put  up  another 

penny  unless •"  The  Easterner  paused,  growing 

thoughtful.  Some  minutes  passed  before  he  resumed: 
"There's  one  condition  on  which  they'll  do  it,  and  I'll 
guarantee  their  support." 

"And  the  condition?" 

"That  you  surrender  your  stock  to  them." 

"For  the  twenty  or  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  more 
that  will  be  needed?  My  shares  representing  a  hundred 

179 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

thousand?    And  I  presume  I  should  have  to  withdraw  al- 
together." 

"Naturally,"  Gretzlnger  responded.  "I  should  then 
take  charge." 

Bryant's  expression  exhibited  a  certain  amount  of 
curiosity. 

"Do  you  really  think  you  could  finish  the  ditch  on  time?" 
he  inquired. 

A  slight  sneer  was  the  answer.  Gretzinger  was  one  not 
given  to  wasting  time  with  men  of  Bryant's  type. 

"How  about  it?  Am  I  to  take  back  to  New  York  with 
me  your  agreement  to  this? "  he  asked,  curtly. 

The  other  spread  his  feet  apart  and  hooked  his  thumbs  in 
his  coat  pockets  and  directed  his  full  regard  at  the  speaker. 

"You  think  you  have  me  in  a  hole,  Gretzinger,"  he  said. 
"You  propose  to  take  me  by  the  throat  and  shake  every- 
thing out  of  my  pockets  and  then  throw  me  aside.  Well, 
I'm  in  a  hole,  no  use  denying  that.  But  you  haven't  me  by 
the  throat  and  you're  not  going  to  loot  me.  If  I  go  broke, 
it  won't  be  through  handing  over  what  I  have  to  you  and 
your  gang  of  pirates,  just  make  up  your  mind  to  that." 

"Then  you  intend  to  wreck  this  project.  A  court  action 
will  stop  that,  I  fancy." 

"The  only  court  action  you  can  demand  is  a  receivership 
for  the  company,  and  not  until  my  money-bag  is  empty  at 
that,"  Lee  rejoined,  coolly.  "And  the  time  will  expire  and 
the  company  be  a  shell  before  it's  granted,  at  the  rate  courts 
move." 

The  New  Yorker  considered.  Finally  he  began  to  re- 
button  his  overcoat. 

180 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"I'll  leave  the  offer  open,"  said  he.  "I  was  uncertain  be- 
fore about  returning,  but  I'll  probably  do  so  now.  You'll 
find  as  the  pinch  comes  that  my  proposition  will  look  better 
— and  we  might  pay  you  two  or  three  thousand  so  you'll  not 
go  out  strapped.  Besides,  if  we  took  over  and  completed 
the  project,  it  would  save  your  face;  you  wouldn't  be  wholly 
discredited ;  you  would  be  able  to  get  a  job  somewhere  after- 
ward. Might  as  well  make  the  most  you  can  for  yourself  out 
of  a  bad  mess.  Think  it  over,  Bryant."  He  set  his  cap  on 
his  head  with  a  conclusive  air. 

Lee  pointed  at  a  chair  by  the  table. 

"Sit  down  for  a  moment;  there's  another  matter."  He 
crossed  to  his  desk,  put  his  hand  in  a  drawer  for  something, 
and  came  back.  "Look  at  that,"  he  said,  tossing  a  revolver 
cartridge  on  the  table  before  Gretzinger. 

The  man  picked  it  up  and  turned  it  over  between 
thumb  and  finger,  examining  it  with  mingled  surprise  and 
curiosity. 

"What  about  it?"  he  questioned. 

"I  understand  you're  interested  in  a  certain  young  lady," 
Bryant  stated,  smoothly. 

Gretzinger  straightened  on  his  seat,  flashing  his  look  up 
to  the  other's.  A  sudden  tightening  of  his  lips  accompanied 
the  action  and  he  ceased  to  revolve  the  cartridge  he 
held. 

"I'll  not  discuss  my  personal  affairs  with  you  or — • — 

"When  they  touch  mine,  you  will,"  was  the  answer. 

"Are  you  jealous?  "  Gretzinger  asked  after  a  pause,  with 
a  trace  of  insolence.  "Believe  you  are.  I  thought, 
along  with  your  other  shortcomings,  you  weren't  capable  of 

181 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

even  that.  Now  that  we're  talking,  I'll  say  that  I've  taken 
Ruth  round  and  found  her  entertaining.  What  about 
it?  And  I've  given  her  my  opinion  of  the  way  you've  run 
this  work,  because  she  asked  for  it.  I  told  her  that  you  had 
botched  the  business  from  the  beginning.  I  told  her  you 
were  unpractical,  incompetent,  small-gauged,  and  light- 
weight, and  would  make  a  failure  of  everything  you  touched. 
There  you  have  it  all.  Well?" 

Bryant's  brows  twitched  for  an  instant. 

"I  guessed  as  much."  He  stood  staring  in  silence  at  the 
table,  but  presently  brought  himself  to  attention.  "Hon- 
our is  something  you  don't  understand.  So  I  thought  that 
bullet  might  focus  your  mind  on  possible  consequences." 

"What's  all  this  rot!" 

Lee  leaned  forward  with  his  fists  resting  on  the  table  and 
his  eyes  probing  Gretzinger's. 

"If  any  harm  comes  to  Ruth  through  you,  that  bullet 
will  pay  it  out,"  he  said,  harshly.  "You've  felt  its  weight. 
It's  forty-four  calibre,  plenty  heavy  enough  to  do  the 
business.  I  can  smash  a  potato  at  thirty  paces.  One  shot 
is  all  I  shall  ask.  I  won't  do  any  hemming  and  hawing  over 
the  matter,  or " 

Gretzinger  sprang  up. 

"See  here,  Bryant!"  he  cried. 

"Or  advertising  in  the  newspapers,"  the  other  went  on, 
in  a  level  tone.  "I'll  attend  to  your  case  quickly  and 
quietly.  Here,  or  in  New  York,  or  wherever  you  are. 
That's  all." 

Gretzinger  had  gone  a  little  pale.  He  was  nervously 
drawing  on  his  cap. 

182 


THE    IRON    FURROW 


"Listen  to  me  for  a  moment- 


"I  said  that's  all.  Get  out."  And  Bryant's  mien 
brooked  no  temporizing. 

It  was  of  Lee's  nature  not  to  brood  on  such  matters.  He 
had  given  the  warning  and  must  await  the  issue.  Mean- 
while, the  burden  of  work  and  the  needs  of  the  project 
would  afford  sufficient  occupation  for  his  mind. 

Christmas  came.  Bryant  had  ordered  that  labour 
cease  for  twenty-four  hours,  as  the  gruelling  fight  of  weeks 
had  worn  down  the  spirit  of  the  men.  A  holiday  would 
rest  them,  while  a  big  turkey  dinner  and  unlimited  cigars 
and  pails  of  candy  would  put  them  in  a  good  humour.  At 
dark  on  the  afternoon  before  the  day  shift  at  both  camps 
ceased  work,  the  horses  were  stabled,  the  torches  left  un- 
lighted,  the  fires  along  the  ditch  allowed  to  die  down,  and 
the  project  was  idle.  A  light  skif t  of  snow  had  fallen  during 
the  morning,  whitening  the  earth,  but  the  clouds  had 
passed  away,  so  that  the  still  air  and  clear  sky  gave  promise 
of  a  fine  morrow. 

Christmas  Eve,  however,  did  not  lapse  without  a  disturb- 
ing incident.  About  supper  tune  Dave  came  running  to 
Bryant  and  Pat  Carrigan  in  Lee's  shack.  He  had  seen 
workmen  going  furtively  into  a  tent  in  numbers  that 
aroused  his  curiosity,  and  had  crept  unseen  under  the  lee  of 
the  canvas  shelter,  where,  lifting  the  flap,  he  beheld  in  the 
interior  a  keg  on  the  ground  and  a  Mexican,  by  light  of  a 
candle,  serving  labourers  whisky  in  tin  cups. 

"Whisky  in  camp!"  Lee  roared.  "Come  with  me,  Pat." 
The  two  men,  guided  by  Dave,  strode  down  the  street. 
Before  the  tent  indicated  they  halted  to  listen.  The 

183 


shelter  glowed  dimly;  formless  shadows  stirred  on  its  can- 
vas walls;  and  from  within  came  low,  guarded  voices  and 
once  a  muffled  laugh. 

Jerking  the  flaps  apart  Bryant  entered,  followed  by  the 
contractor.  He  forced  an  opening  through  the  group  of 
workmen  by  a  savage  sweep  of  his  arms  and  came  to  the 
keg,  where  the  Mexican  at  the  moment  was  bending  down 
and  holding  a  cup  under  the  spigot.  When  the  man  per- 
ceived the  engineer,  he  leaped  up.  The  fellow's  short, 
squat  figure  and  stony  expression  had  for  Bryant  a  vague 
familiarity — that  face  especially,  brown,  stolid,  brutal, 
with  a  fixed,  snake-like  gaze. 

But  Lee  had  no  time  to  speculate  on  the  Mexican's 
identity.  The  liquor  was  the  important  thing.  The  man 
stood  motionless,  holding  in  his  left  hand  the  half-filled  cup 
that  gave  off  a  pungent,  sickening  smell  of  whisky;  his  eyes 
were  intent  on  the  engineer.  Behind  Lee,  Carrigan  was 
already  herding  the  others  from  the  tent. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  stuff?"  Bryant  demanded. 
But  as  the  Mexican  only  shook  his  head,  he  changed  to 
Spanish.  "Trying  to  start  a  big  drunk  here?" 

"To-morrow  is  a  fe'te  day,  senor,"  was  the  reply.  "A 
friend  made  me  a  present;  I  share  it  with  the  others.  Be- 
sides, in  cold  weather  it  keeps  one  warm." 

"How  long  have  you  worked  here?" 

"Three  days." 

"There's  a  camp  order:  'No  liquor  allowed  in  camp.' 
You  can't  say  that  you  don't  know  it,  for  it's  posted  every- 
where on  placards  in  English  and  in  Spanish." 

He  received  no  response.  A  faint  shrug  of  the  shoulders, 

184 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

perhaps.  The  Mexican's  glistening,  sinister  eyes,  on  the 
other  hand,  continued  as  rigid  as  orbs  of  polished  agate, 
and  his  face  as  expressionless. 

"Well,  we'll  lock  you  up  and  see  if  we  can  learn  who  your 
'friend'  is  that  sent  this  barrel  in,"Lee  stated. 

There  was  a  slight  movement  of  the  man's  elbow. 

"Watch  him — his  right  hand!"  Pat  cried,  sharply. 

The  hand  had  darted  swiftly  to  the  fellow's  hip,  but 
Bryant's  fist  was  as  quick.  It  shot  up,  catching  the  man's 
jaw  and  hoisting  him  off  his  feet.  Next  instant  the  engineer 
had  disarmed  the  prostrate  ruffian. 

"The  Kennard  jail  for  you,"  said  he,  in  English.  "A 
bad  hombre,  eh!  Up  with  you,  quick." 

But  what  followed  neither  the  engineer  nor  the  con- 
tractor anticipated.  With  a  lightning-like  roll  of  his  body 
the  man  vanished  under  the  side  of  the  tent.  When  the 
others  rushed  out  in  search  of  him  he  had  made  good  his 
escape;  and  a  search  through  the  dark  camp  would  be  use- 
less. They  therefore  emptied  the  keg  upon  the  ground, 
extinguished  the  lamp,  and  returned  to  Lee's  office.  Though 
the  Mexican  had  got  away,  they  nevertheless  had  put  a  foot 
on  the  malicious  scheme. 

All  at  once  Dave,  who  was  walking  at  Bryant's  and 
Pat's  heels  up  the  street,  exclaimed: 

"I've  got  that  greaser's  number  now!  We  saw  him  once 
at  the  depot  in  Kennard,  Lee.  He  was  watching  you,  re- 
member?" 

"I  guess  you're  right;  I  recall  him." 

"Bet  that  old  devil  in  Bartolo  put  him  up  to  this."  Dave 
asserted. 

185 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Tut,  tut,  kid!    Language  like  that  on  Christmas  Eve! 
Charlie  might — but  not  his  father,  I  imagine." 
Dave,  however,  was  not  altogether  to  be  suppressed. 
"Well,  I  don't  put  anything  past  either  of  them,"  he 

sniffed. 


186 


CHAPTER    XXI 

On  Christmas  morning  the  thought  occurred  to  Lee  that 
he  had  heard  nothing  more  from  Imogene  of  the  plan  for 
him  to  spend  the  day  at  the  McDonnells',  which  she  had 
mentioned  the  night  of  their  talk.  Rather  strangely,  too, 
he  had  not  received  from  either  of  the  girls  even  a  note  of 
holiday  greeting;  to  Imogene  he  had  had  sent  from  Denver 
an  edition  of  Ibsen's  plays,  and  to  Ruth  a  splendid  set  of 
furs,  both  in  care  of  Mrs.  McDonnell,  who  had  promised 
they  should  be  delivered  when  Santa  Claus  came  down  the 
chimney.  Odd,  the  girls'  silence. 

He  was  at  work  on  his  accounts  at  the  moment,  but  now 
he  remained  biting  the  end  of  his  pen-holder  and  staring 
through  the  window.  From  somewhere  in  the  sagebrush 
came  the  sound  of  shots:  Dave  potting  tin  cans  with  the 
.22  rifle  that  had  been  Lee's  gift  to  him.  In  the  room  was 
only  the  snapping  of  the  fire.  Presently  the  telephone  rang. 

"lino  now,"  he  exclaimed.  "I'll  be  hanged  if  I  go  down 
and  carry  out  the  farce  before  the  McDonnells." 

But  the  person  proved  to  be  Louise  Graham. 

"I  wondered — well,  several  things,"  she  said,  when  he 
had  answered.  "First,  if  you  had  gone  away  anywhere; 
next,  in  case  you  hadn't,  whether  you  were  working;  and 
last,  should  the  camp  be  resting  to-day,  if  you  wouldn't 
come  to  Christmas  dinner  with  father  and  me." 

187 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"No  work's  going  on." 

"Then  we'll  be  delighted  to  have  you  come — and  Dave 
also,  of  course.  There's  an  especially  fattened  turkey 
ready  to  slide  into  the  oven  now.  Father  has  just  said,  too, 
to  tell  you  that  there's  going  to  be  something  else — Tom 
and  Jerry.  How  does  that  sound?  " 

"Like  a  man  and  a  boy  coming  down  the  road  toward 
Diamond  Creek,"  Lee  answered,  with  a  laugh.  "Thank 
you  for  your  thoughtfulness  in  remembering  us." 

"I'll  judge  how  sincere  you  are  by  the  amount  of  turkey 
you  eat,"  she  said.  "  Dinner  will  be  about  one  o'clock." 

"We  shall  be  prompt." 

Lee  hung  up  the  receiver,  then  glanced  at  his  watch. 
It  was  ten.  He  reseated  himself  at  his  desk  and  endeav- 
oured to  fasten  his  thoughts  upon  the  entries  in  the  book 
before  him,  but  at  last  he  exclaimed,  throwing  down  his 
pen:  "Damned  if  I  can  or  will!"  and  jumped  up,  and  went 
to  tramping  about  the  office,  and  when  Dave's  cat  and 
kitten  presented  themselves  to  be  stroked,  unfeelingly  thrust 
them  aside  with  his  boot  as  he  tramped.  And  when  Dave 
came  in,  about  half -past  eleven,  the  boy  found  him  part  way 
into  a  clean  white  shirt,  with  the  cat  and  the  kitten  eying 
him  resentfully,  and  received  the  order: "  Get  a  move  on  you; 
we're  going  to  the  Grahams'  for  dinner.  See  that  you 
scrub  your  face,  too — and  ears!"  Which  left  Dave  quite 
as  indignant  as  the  cat,  for  he  always  washed  his  ears. 

They  arrived  at  the  Graham  ranch  house  shortly  after 
noon,  where  wreaths  of  holly,  strings  of  evergreen,  and  red 
paper  bells  created  a  Christmas  atmosphere.  Coming  from 
their  cold  ride  into  these  cheerful  rooms  and  to  a  warm 

188 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

welcome,  the  hearts  of  both  man  and  boy  glowed  with 
unaccustomed  feeling.  And  throughout  the  dinner  that 
followed  betimes — during  which  Mr.  Graham's  pleasantries 
and  Louise's  gay  spirits  and  mirth  evoked  in  Lee  a  blithe- 
ness  to  which  he  long  had  been  a  stranger  and  in  Dave  a 
state  of  joyous  bliss — they  luxuriated  in  halcyon  well-being. 
After  the  meal  Louise,  at  her  father's  suggestion,  went  to 
the  piano  and  sang  while  the  men  were  smoking  their 
cigars.  And  then  followed  an  hour  at  cards,  High  Five,  at 
which  Mr.  Graham  and  Dave  won  the  most  games;  and 
then  a  maid,  a  Mexican  girl,  Rosita,  brought  in  a  bowl  of 
nuts  and  raisins  for  the  rancher  and  the  boy  who  settled 
themselves  for  a  match  at  checkers,  and  Lee  and  Louise 
strolled  to  a  window  seat  at  the  other  end  of  the  long  living 
room. 

A  delicate  pink  was  in  the  girl's  cheeks.  Her  eyes  were 
tender  under  their  long  lashes;  a  smile  still  lingered  on  her 
lips.  It  was  as  if  her  countenance,  her  mind,  her  spirit, 
were  suffused  with  the  happiness  and  peace  of  the  hour,  of 
the  day. 

"My  poor  one-armed  man,  how  is  he?"  she  asked.  "I 
intended  to  go  see  him,  but  the  cold  has  been  so  steady  that 
I  gave  it  up.  You  said  over  the  telephone  several  days 
ago  that  he  was  doing  as  well  as  could  be  expected." 

" Quite  out  of  danger  now,"  Lee  replied.  "The  doctor 
told  him  a  lady  assisted  at  the  operation  and  now  he's  full  of 
curiosity  regarding  you." 

"I'll  surprise  him  some  day  by  just  walking  up  to  his  cot 
and  saying:  'Good  morning,  how's  my  patient?'  The  day 
I'm  going  to  pick  is  the  next  one  you  move  camp:  I_want 

189 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

to  see  how  all  those  tents  and  shacks  and  everything  rise  up 
on  their  feet  and  travel." 

"You  shall,"  he  stated,  with  a  laugh.  " I'll  notify  you  of 
the  date.  About  New  Year's  Day  the  next  migration  will 
occur.  You've  had  your  turn  at  hospital  work  and  now 
perhaps  you  wish  to  try  your  hand  at  transportation.  I 
wager  you'd  make  a  good  camp  manager  if  you  took  hold 
of  the  job." 

"Would  you  revive  me  a  second  time  if  I  threatened  to 
faint?"  she  queried,  gayly.  "You  and  Imogene  Martin 
gave  me  just  the  right  treatment  that  evening,  for  you  kept 
my  thoughts  off  the  ordeal  I'd  been  through.  Next  day  I 
was  myself,  as  I  told  you  when  you  called  up." 

"I  haven't  seen  you  since  that  day,"  Lee  remarked.  "I 
was  really  worried  that  afternoon,  you  know."  And  an 
echo  of  the  anxiety  he  had  suffered  sounded  in  his  voice. 

Her  face  showed  that  she  noted  it,  and  it  softened. 

"And  you  have  so  many  anxieties,  too,"  said  she. 

He  stirred,  then  withdrew  his  gaze  from  her  and  directed 
it  out  a  window.  The  emotion  he  had  experienced  that 
afternoon  when  she  sat  before  his  fire,  when  she  sat  there  so 
frank  and  so  simple-hearted,  was  rising  in  his  breast  again. 
The  breath  trembled  a  little  upon  his  lips.  But  after  a  time 
he  felt  himself  grow  calmer. 

"I  have  anxieties,  yes,"  he  said,  "but  so,  I  suppose,  has 
every  man  and  woman,  of  his  or  her  own  kind  and  degree. 
And  they  aren't  the  important  thing,  after  all.  What  has 
happened  in  the  past,  not  what  may  occur  in  the  future,  is 
what  really  matters.  One  can't  change  the  past,  what's 
done;  especially  by  one's  own  act  And  if  the  act  was  a 

190 


serious  mistake.  That's  fatal!  I  see  now  that  failure  to 
accomplish  what  one  sets  out  to  do,  as  for  instance  in  the 
building  of  my  canal,  may  not  be  ruinous  to  a  man.  A 
man  may  fail  and  be  quite  as  able  a  man  as  ever,  as  those 
who  succeed;  for  human  beings  can  do  only  so  much  and  no 
more.  Nothing  that  he  has  done  or  not  done  would  alter 
the  result.  And  he  need  not  take  the  failure  greatly  to 
heart.  But  voluntary  and  heedless  acts  of  folly,  pre- 
cipitate and  unconsidered  leaps  in  the  dark,  these  indeed  are 
ruinous.  Oh,  yes,  they  do  the  business.  They  become 
balls  and  chains.  Leave  him  no  choice  or  action.  If  it 
were  only  so  simple  as  the  game  of  checkers  your  father  and 
Dave  are  playing!  When  one  game  is  over,  they  can  start 
another.  But  there's  only  one  game  to  life." 

"But  it  is  a  long  one,  and  changes,"  Louise  said. 

She  glanced  at  him.  He  intended  that  his  words  should  be 
taken,  she  perceived,  inageneral  sense.  But  themindalways 
seeks  the  specific:  hers  instinctively  seized  on  the  particular 
thorn  that  had  prompted  his  utterance.  Of  Ruth  Gardner's 
extraordinary  and  inexplicable  behaviour  she  had  become  in- 
formed, like  everyone  else;  it  at  first  amazed,  then  shocked, 
and  finally  outraged  her  sense  of  decency.  It  repelled  her — 
but,  then,  her  early  attempts  at  friendship  with  the  other 
had  never  advanced.  The  girl  had  always  been  absorbed 
in  her  own  doings,  immersed  in  pleasure  or  in  plans  for 
pleasure,  concerned  entirely  with  the  friends  she  had,  and, 
unlike  Imogene,  received  Louise's  calls  and  approaches  at 
cordiality  with  an  indifference  that  withered  all  feeling. 
With  the  passing  of  time  Louise  had  considered  Lee's 
course  in  relation  to  the  girl  as  a  cause  for  wonder.  The 

191 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

engineer  was  singularly  patient,  or  incredibly  obtuse,  or 
marvellously  in  love.  Whichever  it  was,  her  heart  stirred 
with  pity.  He  deserved  better,  he  deserved  the  best.  As 
for  Ruth  Gardner,  she  could  now  only  think  of  her  with  a 
hot  resentment  that  set  her  lips  quivering;  and  she  was 
moved  at  moments  by  a  profound  desire  to  express 
her  sympathy  to  him  and  to  give  that  warm  encourage- 
ment his  spirit  on  occasion  must  need.  But  she  must 
refrain. 

At  his  speech  her  conclusions,  but  not  her  feelings, 
underwent  a  sharp  revision.  The  revelation  startled  her. 
He  had  not  been  obtuse.  He  no  longer  was  marvellously  in 
love  with  Ruth  Gardner,  nor  in  love  with  her  at  all.  Relief 
followed  surprise  in  her  mind,  the  relief  that  comes  at  a 
fear  unrealized,  a  disaster  avoided.  Disaster  had  been 
precisely  what  she  had  sensed  if  not  thought,  since  a  union 
of  two  persons  whose  natures  were  as  utterly  different,  as 
essentially  opposed,  as  Lee's  and  Ruth's  would  inevitably 
lead  to  disillusionment,  antagonism,  sorrow,  havoc.  That 
his  eyes  at  last  were  open  was  a  blessing. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of?"  he  asked,  all  at  once. 

She  found  his  eyes  full  upon  her. 

"Of  what  you  had  said,"  she  responded.  "And  at  this 
minute  I'm  speculating  on  whether  anything — one's  de- 
cisions, or  acts,  or  sentiments — are  ever  quite  conclusive  or 
final.  Or  fatal,  too,  as  you  said.  We  might  possibly  ex- 
cept murder  and  suicide."  She  smiled  as  she  mentioned 
this  reservation. 

Lee  shifted  his  position  with  a  trace  of  impatience. 

"I'm  not  a  pessimist,"  he  exclaimed. 

192 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"No,  you're  too  active  to  be.  Pessimism  is  at  bottom  a 
kind  of  mental  indolence,  I'd  say — an  unpleasant  kind." 

" Some  matters  are  not  solved  by  action,"  said  he.  "That 
is,  when  they  are  out  of  one's  hands  and  in  another's." 

Her  attention  was  caught  by  those  words,  and  she  hung 
on  them  for  a  little.  They  distressed  her;  they  caused  her 
to  understand  the  forced  immobility  of  his  face  as  he  spoke, 
and  wish  that  he  would  give  way  to  his  feeling.  The  phrase 
"out  of  one's  hands  and  in  another's"  referred  undoubtedly 
to  Ruth  Gardner.  She  did  not  trust  herself  to  speak. 

"What  became  of  all  those  flowers  that  were  in  your 
garden  last  summer?"  he  asked,  suddenly.  "Do  you  dig 
up  the  roots,  or  cover  them,  or  let  them  freeze?  You  have 
no  idea  how  many  times  these  cold  days  the  recollection  of 
that  hour  with  you  last  summer  when  we  walked  among 
them  recurs  to  me.  It  seems  ages  ago,  however.  That 
was  one  of  the  happy  days,  Louise." 

A  delicate  tint  of  pink  stole  into  her  face.  For  to  her 
also  the  day  had  been  one  of  happiness,  as  clear-cut  in  her 
memory  as  a  cameo.  The  thought  that  it  and  she  had  been 
dwelling  in  his  mind  produced  in  her  breast  an  unaccount- 
able agitation.  The  coral  pink  in  her  cheeks  deepened  to  a 
flush ;  she  lowered  her  eye-lashes  and  averted  her  look. 

"The  flowers  are  banked  with  straw,  the  perennials," 
she  said,  to  prevent  a  silence. 

"I  shall  come  and  see  them  when  they're  blooming 
again,"  he  stated.  "The  more  I  recall  them,  the  more 
beautiful  it  seems  they  were — yes,  and  the  orchard,  too, 
and  the  grassy  canals,  and  the  sunshine  that  day.  And 
you  in  the  picture — the  centre  of  the  picture,  Louise.  The 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

impressions  one  retains  that  stand  out  vividly  in  the  mind 
are  few :  that  is  one  of  the  number  for  me.  But  perhaps  not 
for  you." 

"Oh,  for  me  also,"  she  exclaimed. 

Bryant  stared  at  her  round  forearms  and  hands  lying  on 
her  lap,  but  without  observing  them.  He  had  marked  the 
quick  sincerity  of  her  response.  It  affected  him  as  would  her 
soft  hand-clasp.  He  began  to  glance  restlessly  about  the 
room. 

The  dusk  of  the  early  winter  night  was  at  hand.  It  had 
thickened  in  the  corners  and  over  where  Mr.  Graham  and 
Dave  were  meditating  their  game  in  silence.  The  flames 
crackling  in  the  fireplace  intensified  the  forming  shadows. 
Lee  recognized  that  it  was  tune  to  be  going.  Nevertheless, 
he  continued  to  linger  for  a  while,  with  his  eyes  sometimes 
resting  on  his  companion  in  enjoyment  of  her  face,  engaged 
in  thought,  experiencing  a  contentment  in  merely  being  in 
her  presence. 

"This  will  be  another  of  those  days,"  he  at  length  re- 
marked, in  a  musing  tone. 

His  words  aroused  her  from  her  own  reflections. 

"One  for  winter  as  well  as  for  summer,"  she  said,  raising 
her  look.  "Did  I  seem  to  be  dreaming  when  you  spoke? 
I  was  doing  scarcely  that;  my  mind  was  lulled;  the  quiet — 
the  twilight — Christmas  Day — they  bring  a  soothing  mood." 

"Something  that  in  a  world  of  money,  money  can't  buy," 
Lee  said.  He  appeared  about  to  make  a  further  remark, 
but  failed  to  do  so.  His  thoughts,  however,  had  gone  off 
somewhere,  Louise  observed.  Then  he  inquired  hi  a  matter- 
of-fact  way:  "When  will  you  ride  up  to  camp  again?" 

194 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Not  until  it  grows  warmer.  Twelve  miles  or  more  is 
rather  too  far  for  a  canter  on  a  sharp  day." 

He  cast  his  eyes  about  at  the  strings  of  evergreen  and  the 
suspended  red  bells  and  holly  wreaths. 

"I'll  run  down  again,  if  I  may,  before  the  holidays  are 
over,"  said  he.  "If  only  for  another  look  at  those  things. 
They  give  a  fellow  a  pull — out  of  the  ditch,  so  to  speak." 
And  he  rose. 

"  Come,  by  all  means,"  Louise  replied,  with  a  nod. 


195 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A  week  of  twenty-below-zero  weather  opened  the  month 
of  January  and  halted  work  on  the  mesa.  At  that  time 
four  miles  of  canal  remained  to  be  dug.  Bryant  and  Pat 
Carrigan  sat  by  the  stove  in  Lee's  shack  and  waited,  as  the 
whole  camp  waited,  for  the  thermometer  to  rise.  On  one 
of  these  mornings,  when  Dave  had  gone  across  the  street  to 
the  engineers'  building,  Lee  informed  the  contractor  that 
company  funds  were  not  far  from  exhausted  and  related  his 
talk  with  Gretzinger  before  the  latter's  departure  for  New 
York. 

"So  he  would  squeeze  you  out,"  Pat  remarked.  "What 
you  might  expect  from  him,  nothing  more!  I've  had  the 
notion  for  some  tune  that  your  cash  was  getting  low,  from 
the  way  the  money  has  gone." 

"I've  spent  five  thousand  on  engineering,  medical,  and 
general  accounts,"  Lee  stated,  "twenty  thousand  on  con- 
crete work,  and  paid  you  forty  thousand.  I've  fifteen 
thousand  left  from  the  sale  of  bonds  and  a  personal  loan  I 
obtained  from  McDonnell.  That  will  pay  for  about  two 
weeks'  work.  And  I  think  we've  made  every  dollar  go  as 
far  as  it  would  under  the  circumstances." 

"My  word  for  that." 

"It's  this  little  trick  of  Menocal's  that's  burning  up 
good  coin.  Sixty  thousand  would  have  built  the  project 

196 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

ordinarily;  my  estimates  were  correct  enough.  But 
having  to  do  the  job  in  this  infernal  weather  is  what's 
raising  the  cost  forty  thousand  more.  I  feel  like  entering  in 
the  ledger  'To  account  of  frost — $40,000.00.'  Like  that." 
Lee  scribbled  the  line  on  a  sheet  of  paper  and  handed  it  to 
Pat.  "But  there's  one  thing  sure,  I'll  sink  the  last  cent  I 
have  in  the  ground  before  I  quit  and  let  those  Eastern 
pirates  get  their  claws  into  me.  I'll  have  you  cut  down 
your  force  if  necessary  and  string  the  last  dollar  and  last 
day's  work  out  till  my  three  months'  grace  is  up." 

"Might  try  McDonnell  for  another  loan/'  Carrigan  sug- 
gested. 

"I  hate  doing  that  worse  than  anything  I  know.  He, 
not  the  bank,  let  me  have  that  twenty  thousand  on  my  un- 
secured note.  I  had  nothing  to  offer  but  my  stock  in  this 
company,  and  until  the  project's  finished  that's  no  better 
than  so  much  blank  paper.  Loaned  it  to  me  because  of  my 
nerve,  he  said.  And  at  the  time  I  told  him  it  would  be 
enough  money  to  carry  me  through,  which  I  believed. 

Now  to  go  back  to  him  again "  Lee  stopped,  with  an 

expression  of  deep  chagrin  upon  his  face. 

Pat  tapped  the  dottle  from  his  pipe  and  refilled  the  bowl. 
He  glanced  once  or  twice  at  the  engineer  during  the  act. 

"You  can  make  a  better  showing  now  than  before,"  said 
he.  "Four  miles  more  and  you'll  be  to  the  good.  One  of 
the  excitements  of  construction  enterprises,  and  of  irri- 
gation projects  in  particular,  I've  observed,  is  the  financing. 
The  more  often  a  man  can  go  and  pull  his  backers'  legs  for 
cash,  the  better  financier  he  is.  It  seems  to  be  largely  a 
matter  of  keeping  at  them,  talking  them  to  death,  wearing 

197 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

them  out,  until  they  weaken  and  hand  over  the  money. 
More  than  one  railroad  was  built  that  way.  Try  it  on  Mc- 
Donnell." 

"You  come  with  me." 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  Pat,  with  vigour. 

"I  thought  you  wouldn't,"  said  Lee. 

He  took  Carrigan's  suggestion,  however,  and  went  down 
through  the  bitter  cold  to  see  the  banker.  But  the  visit 
was  fruitless.  The  bank  could  not  make  the  loan,  and 
money  being  tight  because  of  first  of  the  year  settlements, 
McDonnell  was  not  in  shape  to  make  it  personally,  nor 
would  be  in  time  to  render  any  assistance.  He  was  per- 
fectly willing,  he  said,  to  gamble  another  twenty  thousand 
on  Bryant's  ability  to  win  through,  but  he  did  not  have  the 
cash.  Then  he  went  on  to  say  that  Imogene  had  been 
suffering  from  a  slight  cold,  and  that  Ruth  Gardner  was 
visiting  at  present  with  other  friends  in  Kennard. 

Lee  had  had  a  telephone  call  from  each  of  them  the 
morning  after  Christmas,  thanking  him  for  his  gift,  and 
later  a  letter  from  Imogene  again  expressing  her  apprecia- 
tionj  with  a  line  that  a  change  in  Mrs.  McDonnell's  plans 
had  prevented  having  him  with  them  on  Christmas. 

Nothing  from  either  since.  He  now  asked  the  banker 
to  convey  to  Imogene  his  wishes  for  a  quick  recovery, 
then  set  out  for  camp.  Ruth — he  did  not  even  know  where 
in  town  to  look  for  Ruth,  had  he  been  so  inclined.  Engaged ! 
The  thing  would  have  been  amusing  if  it  was  not  so 
horrible. 

"No  luck,"  he  said  to  Pat,  briefly,  when  in  his  shack 
warming  his  chilled  body  at  the  fire.  "Your  system  may 

198 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

work  in  summer,  but  all  the  money  is  froze  up  at  this  time  of 
year,  like  everything  else." 

At  the  end  of  the  week  the  winter's  frigid  grip  on  the 
earth  relaxed  and  a  period  of  mild,  almost  balmy  days  fol- 
lowed. Under  the  noon-day  sun  the  top  ground  even 
softened  a  little.  The  camps  awoke,  the  rested  men  and 
horses  fell  upon  their  task  with  new  spirit,  and  excavation 
went  ahead  steadily.  If  there  had  been  a  full  force,  as 
Carrigan  pointed  out,  he  could  have  moved  at  the  rate  of  a 
mile  in  six  days  instead  of  in  eight.  Still  the  canal  was 
being  built,  yard  by  yard,  rod  by  rod,  until  by  the  middle  of 
January  another  mile  of  the  total  was  finished.  The  two 
camps  were  now  easily  within  sight  of  each  other,  the 
larger  in  the  south,  the  smaller  in  the  north,  and  but  three 
miles  apart  across  the  sagebrush.  Moreover,  the  last 
stones  of  the  dam  had  been  laid;  it  stood  completed;  and 
the  men  who  had  been  engaged  there  moved  down  to  add 
their  strength  to  the  north  camp. 

One  day  toward  noon  Lee  entered  his  office  and  to  his 
amazement  found  Ruth  seated  there,  glancing  over  an  old 
magazine  and  toasting  her  feet  at  the  stove.  The  furs  he 
had  given  her  reposed  on  his  desk,  where  she  had  laid  them 
aside.  At  his  entrance  she  sprang  up,  uttered  a  delighted 
exclamation,  and  rushing  forward  clasped  her  arms  about 
his  neck  and  kissed  him. 

"Lee,  how  good  it  seems  to  see  you!"  she  said.  "After 
so  long!  And  I  can't  thank  you  enough  for  those  darling 
furs !  I've  thought  of  you  so  much,  working  up  here  in  the 
cold  and  alone  with  just  men.  My,  your  face  is  like  ice! 
Come  to  the  fire.  Poor  thing,  you  look  so  thin  and  tired! 

199 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

I  hope  that  soon  you'll  be  able  to  rest;  I'll  make  it  a  point  to 
see  that  you  do  take  a  long  vacation  and  rest,  for  you  need 
it."  She  concluded  with  a  hug  and  another  kiss. 

"  Go  easy  with  my  ears,  Ruth,"  he  said,  disengaging  her 
arms.  "They  were  nipped  the  other  night  and  are  still 
tender.  How  did  you  get  here?  I  thought  you  were  in 
Kennard." 

He  led  her  back  to  her  seat  and  began  to  remove  his  cap 
and  long  sheep-lined  overcoat,  saying  in  an  undertone  that 
the  weather  was  really  too  warm  for  the  things.  After- 
ward he  posted  himself  by  the  stove  near  her,  where  he 
stuffed  his  pipe  with  tobacco  and  began  to  smoke,  while  his 
eyes  considered  her  face. 

"Imo  and  I  returned  to  Sarita  Creek  yesterday,"  she 
remarked,  with  an  air  of  satisfaction.  "It  was  good  to  be 
back,  too.  There  has  been  so  much  going  on  at  Kennard 
that  I  felt  quite  worn  out;  one  becomes  weary  of  too  much 
buzzing  around.  I  don't  want  any  more  of  it  for  some 
time.  And  I  missed  you  dreadfully,  Lee! "  She  flashed  up 
a  smile  at  him,  caught  his  hand  for  an  instant,  and  gave  it  a 
squeeze.  A  thin  stream  of  smoke  issued  from  one  corner  of 
Bryant's  mouth  at  the  action.  "The  people  were  proving 
somewhat  tiresome  also.  So  as  the  weather  had  moderated 
Imogene  and  I  decided  to  return  to  our  cabins." 

"Has  she  recovered  from  her  cold?"  Lee  inquired,  raising 
his  look  to  the  ceiling. 

"Oh,  yes ;  entirely.  And  we're  quite  comfortable.  We  had 
even  thought  of  having  our  ponies  brought  from  the  stable 
at  Bartolo,  so  that  we  could  ride  if  it  grew  still  milder." 

"Risky." 

200 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Well,  you're  probably  right."  She  paused  and  scruti- 
nized her  toes  to  see  that  they  were  not  scorching.  "  Charlie 
brought  Imo  and  me  here  on  his  way  home;  you  can  take  us 
back  to  our  cabins  when  we're  ready  to  go." 

"Imo  here?"  Bryant's  eyebrows  lifted. 

"Over  in  the  shack  Dave  called  'the  hospital.'  Dave 
was  here  when  we  came  and  Imo  asked  him  to  take  her  to 
the  place;  she  had  heard  something  of  an  injured  man  from 
Louise  Graham.  Did  Louise  really  help  during  an  opera- 
tion?" Lee  nodded.  "Well,  she's  odd  in  many  ways. 
Must  be — what  shall  I  say? — a  little  thick-skinned  not  to 
mind  blood  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  And  she  doesn't  go  about 
much;  not  at  all  with  the  real  crowd  at  Kennard,  only  with  a 
slow  one  when  she  does  go.  With  her  father  well  off,  I'd 
think  she  would  want  to  be  doing  something  worth  while. 
Charlie's  still  mad  for  her,  but  Gretzie  thought  after  he  met 
her  at  our  cabins  that  she  was  too  self-conceited.  When 
he  asked  her  if  the  men  of  New  York,  compared  with 
Western  men,  didn't  impress  her  with  superiority  and  smart- 
ness of  dress,  she  said,  'Not  those  of  my  acquaintance; 
they  don't  try  to  impress  one;  it  isn't  done  in  their  circle, 
you  know.  That's  one  of  the  differences  in  manners,  I 
suppose,  that  distinguishes  Fifth  Avenue  from  Broadway.' 
Gretzie  was  furious.  He  had  been  speaking  of  Broadway 
shows  and  restaurants  and  things  at  the  time.  He  declared 
later  that  a  little  attention  had  turned  her  head,  and  that 
what  she  had  said  was  all  rot.  I  don't  care  for  her,  either. 
But  let  us  talk  of  ourselves,  Lee." 

"Yes,  that's  more  interesting,"  he  remarked,  with  an 
accent  of  irony  that  escaped  her. 

201 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

He  was  curious  to  learn  what  this  talk  was  leading  to. 
His  curiosity  outweighed  the  irritation  he  felt  at  her  calm 
ignoring  of  the  past  weeks,  at  her  complacent  assumption 
of  his  love,  at  the  kiss  and  the  caress  she  had  bestowed, 
indeed,  at  her  very  presence  in  the  room. 

"Tell  me  everything  about  your  work  and  about  your- 
self," she  said,  folding  her  hands  and  gazing  up  at  him. 
"I'm  so  impatient  to  hear." 

"Nothing  worth  relating  has  occurred,"  he  replied. 

"You've  been  well?" 

"Oh,  quite.     This  is  a  regular  health  resort." 

"And  you're  not  working  too  hard?" 

"For  a  whole  week  I  scarcely  stirred  from  the  stove," 
said  he. 

"I'm  so  glad.  You  had  earned  a  rest.  You  don't  seem 
worried  about  anything,  either." 

"Worried?"  His  intonation  was  that  of  surprise.  Then 
he  added,  as  if  by  after-thought,  "Oh,  no." 

"How  relieved  I  am!  I  feared  you  might  be  worrying 
your  head  off  about  difficulties — cold  weather,  the  time 
limit  set,  perhaps  money  matters.  I  gained  the  impression 
somewhere  that  you  might  run  short  before  you  finished; 
I  can't  just  say  where  I  got  it.  From  Imo,  perhaps. 
Nothing  definite,  you  know.  But  it's  so  nice  to  know 
that  you're  no  longer  anxious.  That  means  you're  sure 
you'll  build  the  ditch.  How  much  more  is  there  to 
do?" 

"You  can  see  the  north  camp  out  of  that  window." 

Ruth  rose  and  went  to  the  window  indicated,  where  she 
stood  surveying  the  men  and  teams  at  work  beyond  the 

202 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

camp  and  the  stretch  of  sagebrush  extending  to  the  white 
specks  of  tents  in  the  distance. 

"That's  all  that's  left  to  do, Lee?" 

"That's  all.     Three  miles." 

"Charlie  Menocal  hasn't  said  anything  about  it  lately." 

"Knowing  Charlie,  I'm  amazed,"  he  commented. 

Ruth  resumed  her  seat  and  proceeded  to  toast  her  toes 
anew.  Her  glances  from  time  to  time  were  directed  at  Lee's 
countenance  somewhat  speculatively.  Several  times  she 
smoothed  her  dress  with  slow  attention.  Lee  continued 
his  deliberate  smoking. 

"Well,  it's  a  great  comfort  to  know  that  you're  well  and 
that  everything  is  proceeding  so  brightly,"  she  stated,  at 
length.  "You  must  take  time  to  run  down  and  see  me,  now 
that  I'm  back.  I'm  not  going  to  be  satisfied  with  anything 
less  than  almost  every  evening  with  you.  Bring  along  one 
of  those  nice  engineer  boys  for  Imogene  while  we  talk." 

Lee  gave  a  shake  of  his  head. 

"Don't  count  on  me,"  he  said.  "We're  doing  night 
work  as  well  as  day.  We're  near  the  end.  Have  to  push 
the  job.  Little  time  to  spare."  He  jerked  the  phrases 
forth  shortly,  one  after  another. 

"Do  try  to  come  once  in  a  while,  though,"  she  responded, 
gazing  about  the  room  in  a  way  that  gave  her  speech  a  per- 
functory character.  That,  at  any  rate,  was  the  impression 
made  upon  Lee;  and  he  continued  to  puzzle  his  brain  as  to 
what  underlay  it  all — what  motive,  what  object.  At  the 
same  time  he  was  sickened  by  the  suave  interest  she  pre- 
tended, by  her  shallow  insincerity.  "I've  wondered  if  I 
could  be  of  any  help  here  to  you,"  she  went  on.  But  a 

203 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

sharp  movement  on  his  part  caused  her  to  say,  "  Still,  I  know 
a  man  doesn't  like  a  girl  messing  up  his  work.  That's  one 
reason  I've  been  careful  not  to  propose  it  before,  or  even  to 
make  the  demands  on  your  time  that  some  girls  would  have 
made.  I'll  be  glad  when  the  project  is  out  of  the  way;  then 
we  can  begin  to  plan  for  ourselves."  She  cast  her  eyes  up- 
ward at  space.  "There  are  lots  of  things  to  decide — where 
to  live,  and  so  on.  You  come  soon  and  we'll  set  some  of 
them  down  on  paper  for  consideration." 

Lee  could  not  escape  that  feeling  of  perfunctoriness  in  her 
twitter  of  talk.  It  went  no  further  than  that,  however;  he 
had  no  chagrin  or  repugnance  or  anger  at  the  thin  du- 
plicity, not  even  at  her  complacent  confidence  in  his  stupidity 
and  infatuation.  For  to  count  on  his  being  blind  to  the 
past  and  deluded  by  her  words,  she  could  only  believe  him 
both  stupid  and  infatuated.  He  was  quite  calm.  His 
actual  state  of  mind  was,  more  than  anything  else,  one  of 
detachment.  He  imagined  that  he  had  come  to  a  point 
where  she  was  incapable  of  arousing  in  him  any  kind  of 
sentiment  or  passion. 

Presently  she  took  up  her  furs  and  walked  humming  about 
the  office  as  she  adjusted  them. 

"I'd  like  to  stay  all  day,  but  must  be  going,"  she  said. 
"Imo  and  I  were  wondering,  by  the  way,  if  you  could  send 
us  a  man  with  some  tar-paper  to  line  our  cabins." 

"Of  course.  I'll  send  him  after  dinner.  And  he  can 
chop  you  some  wood  and  bring  your  water." 

She  stood  for  a  little  examining  a  blue-print  tacked  on  the 
wall. 

"That's  like  the  one  Mr.  Gretzinger  sometimes  carries," 

204 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

she  remarked.  "I  suppose  he'll  be  returning  one  of  these 
days.  Not  that  it  matters;  he  was  tiresome  at  times,  like 
Charlie  Menocal."  She  studied  the  lines  of  the  map  at- 
tentively. "He  appeared  anxious  to  get  to  New  York. 
Said  something  about  a  sweetheart  there.  You'll  be  glad  if 
he  doesn't  come  back  to  bother  you  again,  won't  you,  Lee 
dear?  "  She  swung  about,  laughing. 

"Oh,  he'll  show  up." 

"I  wasn't  sure;  he  said  he  thought  not." 

Lee  emptied  and  put  away  his  pipe. 

"He'll  come,"  was  his  assured  reply. 

"Then  he  must  have  been  'kidding'  me." 

Her  thoughtful  air  returned.  She  picked  a  raveling  from 
her  sleeve,  and  stroked  her  fur,  and  inspected  the  tips  of 
her  gloves,  and  untied  and  retied  the  strings  of  her  cap — all 
with  an  inscrutable  face.  Then  suddenly  her  mind  ap- 
peared to  be  made  up. 

"Well,  dear,  run  and  bring  your  car  and  we'll  pick  up 
Imogene,"  she  said,  giving  him  a  quick  pat  on  the  cheek. 

Lee  experienced  an  inward  and  involuntary  shrinking  at 
that  touch.  He  no  more  could  have  returned  the  caress 
than  he  could  have  risen  off  the  ground  into  the  air,  like 
those  floating  figures  depicted  in  sacred  paintings.  After 
all,  she  was  quite  capable  of  stirring  a  sentiment  in  his  heart 
— a  sentiment  of  aversion. 

"Go  join  Imo,"  he  replied.  "One  of  the  boys  will  bring 
the  car  to  the  hospital  and  take  you  home.  Impossible  for 
me  to  drive  you  there  to-day." 

That  was  it — impossible,  literally  impossible,  for  his 
whole  being  was  in  revolt.  The  threshold  of  the  door 

205 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

might  have  been  a  dead-line;  he  was  unable  to  cross  it,  at 
any  rate.  With  a  stony  aspect  he  watched  her  depart  and 
wave  a  hand  back  at  him  from  a  distance  and  at  last  dis- 
appear. Then  he  closed  the  door  and  leaned  his  head 
against  it,  with  his  features  drawn  in  an  expression  of  pain 
and  desperation.  His  position  was  diabolical.  She  meant 
to  hold  him  to  his  word;  she  believed  he  loved  her;  and, 
anyway,  she  had  him  fast  in  a  coil.  Yes,  she  had  him  fast. 
And  he  did  not  love  her,  not  at  all.  On  the  contrary,  he 
detested  her — detested  her  with  all  his  heart,  almost  to  hat- 
red, utterly. 


206 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

"Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  come  here?"  Mr.  Menocal  in- 
quired of  Bryant. 

It  was  an  afternoon  in  late  January,  and  the  banker, 
bundled  in  a  great  overcoat  and  numerous  rugs,  had  reined 
his  team  to  a  halt  at  the  spot  where  he  found  the  engineer. 
The  air  was  cutting.  Steam  in  sharp  jets  came  from  the 
nostrils  of  his  pair  of  bays,  as  from  those  of  the  horses 
straining  at  the  plows  and  scrapers  in  the  stretch  of  par- 
tially excavated  canal  near  by. 

Lee  went  forward  to  the  buggy,  slapping  his  gloved  hands 
together  to  quicken  their  circulation. 

"What  do  you  want  of  me,  Mr.  Menocal?"  he  asked. 
"You're  picking  a  frosty  day  to  look  at  the  scenery." 

"Well,  there's  a  matter  that's  been  troubling  my  mind 
for  some  time  and  I  decided  to  let  it  go  no  longer.  We  have 
our  differences,  Mr.  Bryant,  but  I  wouldn't  wish  you  to 
believe  me  responsible  for  a  number  of  annoyances  to  which 
you've  been  put.  I  am  a  gentleman;  I  fight  fair.  For  in- 
stance, I  was  quite  within  my  rights  in  suggesting  those  men 
take  homesteads  down  yonder  along  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tains, though  I  was  wrong  in  my  guess.  Also,  in  taking  ad- 
vantage of  the  law  under  which  you  were  limited  by  the  Land 
and  Water  Board,  I  wasn't  stepping  out  of  bounds.  But 
I've  learned  that  some  time  ago  a  man  introduced  whisky 

207 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

into  camp  against  your  rules,  and  I  wish  to  tell  you  that  I 
knew  nothing  of  it  at  the  time  and  would  countenance  no 
sort  of  disgraceful  act  like  that." 

"I  judged  that  you  wouldn't,"  said  Lee. 

"Then  again  last  summer  someone  killed  your  dog,  I 
understand.  That  was  a  bad  deed.  I  am  fond  of  dogs, 
and  had  I  been  able  to  learn  who  did  it  I  should  have  in- 
formed you  so  that  you  could  have  had  Winship  arrest  him. 
Since  that  time,  too,  there  have  been  other  things,  many  of 
them — men  cutting  your  telephone  wire,  removing  your 
survey  stakes,  and  the  like.  All  making  you  angry.  Well, 
I  was  angry  when  I  heard  that  those  things  were  being  done. 
Resorting  to  questionable  and  criminal  tactics  against  any 
man  is  the  worst  possible  course  a  person  can  follow.  I  do 
not  do  it  in  your  case;  I  will  prevent  any  one  else  from  doing 
it  if  I  can.  You  have  the  right  to  work  undisturbed." 

"I  never  connected  you  with  these  underhanded  acts," 
the  engineer  stated. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Bryant.  It  pleases  me  to  hear  you  say 
that.  I  should  like  to  see  you  lose  your  water  right,  of 
course;  it  would  mean  much  money  in  my  pocket;  but  I'll 
not  do  contemptible  things  or  crooked  things  to  get  posses- 
sion of  it." 

Lee  glanced  at  the  speaker's  face.  It  was  sincere,  earnest, 
and  now  relieved.  He  felt  an  increase  of  respect  for  the  man, 
opponent  though  he  was.  Menocal  appeared,  to  be  sure, 
unable  to  comprehend  the  ethics  involved  in  seeking  to 
thwart  Bryant,  but  he  was  scrupulous  and  honourable 
within  his  understanding.  Far  more  so  than  Gretzinger, 
for  instance.  Or  Charlie  Menocal.  The  thought  of  the 

208 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

banker's  son  pulled  Bryant  up.  Should  he  mention  his 
conviction  that  Charlie  was  the  instigator  of  the  mischief 
discussed?  As  he  was  still  in  doubt  when  his  visitor 
turned  the  subject,  he  let  it  rest. 

"The  way  you're  going  ahead  with  your  canal,  I'm  afraid 
that  my  chance  of  retaining  the  water  is  poor,  very  poor," 
Menocal  said,  with  a  lugubrious  sigh.  He  drew  his  fat  chin 
deeper  into  his  coat  collar,  tugged  at  the  ice  on  his  big  white 
moustache,  and  ran  his  eyes  up  and  down  the  long  line  of 
moving  teams.  "And  it  will  cost  me  a  lot  of  money." 
Again  the  sigh.  "I  didn't  think  you  could  do  it;  I  didn't 
think  any  man  in  the  world  could  do  it.  In  cold  weather, 
in  ninety  days!  I  said  it  was  impossible.  Charlie  said  it 
was  impossible.  Everyone  said  it  was  impossible." 

"Everyone  except  my  contractor  and  me,"  Lee  inter- 
jected, smiling  a  tight  smile. 

The  other  nodded.  "  Except  you,  yes.  And  you're  show- 
ing us  that  after  all  it's  not  impossible.  I  shall  never  say 
again  that  anything  is  impossible.  If  I  ever  have  a  big 
ditch  to  build,  I  shall  insist,  Mr.  Bryant,  that  you  take 
charge.  Then  I  would  say,  '  I  should  like  to  have  it  built  so 
and  so,  and  by  such  a  time/  and  sit  down  at  my  desk  and 
think  no  more  of  it,  knowing  it  would  be  built." 

Bryant  laughed  softly.  He  could  not  help  doing  so. 
That  naive  avowal  from  the  one  whom  he  considered  his 
chief  enemy  tickled  his  fancy.  And  presently  Menocal, 
catching  the  humour  of  it,  himself  began  to  smile. 

"I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  we  have  had  a  misconception 
of  each  other,"  Lee  stated. 

"Ah,  cielos!  That  is  nothing  less  than  the  truth.     What 

209 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

a  pity,  too,  my  young  friend,  that  we  could  not  have  found 
it  out  earlier.  Our  affair,  perhaps — we  might  have  reached 
a  satisfactory  agreement.  This  winter  work,  it  is  costing 
you  something." 

"A  good  many  extra  thousand." 

"And,  alas,  costing  me  even  more!  But  it  is  too  late 
now."  He  made  a  tragic  gesture.  "It  has  gone  too  far. 
Within  two  or  three  weeks  it  will  be  settled  one  way  or  the 
other.  For  you  if  the  weather  remains  good;  for  me  if  the 
weather  becomes  stormy."  He  again  studied  the  moving 
horses  along  the  canal.  "For  me  then — perhaps.  You 
might  not  allow  even  a  great  storm  to  stop  you,  in  some  way. 
This  winter  is  remarkable;  there  seem  to  be  no  storms  to 
happen.  You're  very  lucky." 

"Yes,  I  am  in  that  respect." 

"Well,  I've  done  all  that  I  shall  do  in  the  matter.  I've 
become  quite  calm,  fatalistic.  There's  nothing  else  to  be." 
He  gathered  up  his  reins. 

"That's  a  good  team  you  have,"  Lee  remarked. 

"  Of  the  very  best.  I  disliked  to  use  them  in  this  cold,  but 
Charlie  had  gone  with  the  car  to  Kennard.  Va !  He  is  never 
at  home  any  more.  It  would  be  well  if  I  made  him  drive  a 
team  on  your  ditch." 

"Send  him  along;  I'll  give  him  a  job,"  Lee  said. 

The  banker  shook  his  head. 

"He  would  say  I  was  crazy  and  he  wouldn't  come.  He 
doesn't  even  attend  to  matters  that  require  attention.  This 
whiter  he  has  been  running  too  much  with  idle  men  in  town 
and  spending  money  as  if  it  took  no  effort  to  get  it,  as  if  it 
could  be  picked  off  of  weeds.  It's  very  perplexing.  I  am 

210 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

too  easy  with  Charlie,  I  let  him  have  his  way  too  much.  I 
should  put  him  in  a  pair  of  overalls  for  a  while  and  say, 
'You  are  going  out  with  a  band  of  sheep;  you  have  to  work/ 
Several  times  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  do  that,  but  when 
the  moment  came  I  couldn't  say  it.  He  isn't  robust,  he  has 
always  had  the  best  of  everything,  and  he's  been  educated 
in  a  college." 

"Cut  off  his  allowance  and  take  away  his  automobile. 
He  would  stay  at  home  and  attend  to  business  then,"  Lee 
offered. 

"But  it  would  shame  him.  He  isn't  a  little  boy  any 
longer;  he's  thirty  years  old.  The  trouble  is  that  he  isn't 
like  me,  particular  and  careful;  he's  wild  and  impatient  and 
reckless.  His  mother  wasn't  that  way,  I  am  not  that  way — 
I  don't  know  where  he  got  that  nature." 

Menocal  senior  drove  off  and  Bryant  turned  back  to  his 
work.  The  pity  of  the  thing  was,  as  the  banker  had  stated, 
that  they  had  been  hasty  in  the  beginning,  that  they  had 
not  sought  to  come  to  an  understanding,  some  arrangement. 
It  was  another  mistake.  To  Lee  his  whole  past  here  was 
beginning  to  appear  a  record  of  oversights,  incredible  mis- 
judgements, blinded  blunders,  and  ghastly  mistakes. 


211 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

Ghastly  mistakes!  Some  cynic  has  said  the  only  mistake 
in  life  a  man  can  make  is  "to  go  broke."  Bryant  did  not 
realize  until  afterward  the  irony  lurking  in  the  penumbra 
of  the  talk  with  Menocal.  He  was  broke,  unable  to  proceed, 
even  while  he  listened  to  the  banker's  commendation.  The 
workmen  were  busy,  it  was  true,  and  the  horses  were  pulling 
loaded  fresnos,  and  plows  were  cutting  the  trench  deeper; 
but  that  was  an  expiring  motion,  a  last  falling  gesture. 
Only  a  few  wretched  dollars  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the 
money  chest.  A  day  more,  and  Menocal  would  have 
won. 

That  evening  Lee  climbed  in  his  car  and  drove  away  from 
camp.  Carrigan  had  said  nothing,  but  he  as  well  as  Bryant 
knew  the  company's  bank  account  was  drained;  he  would 
expect  a  settlement  and  when  it  was  made,  discharge  the 
crews,  pull  up  stakes,  and  move  his  property  to  Kennard. 
At  Sarita  Creek  Bryant  alighted. 

"I  wish  to  see  Ruth,"  he  told  Imogene.  "Is  she  away? 
Her  cabin  is  dark  and  I  obtained  no  answer  to  my  knock." 

"  She's  gone  to  town." 

"Well,  I  wanted  to  tell  her  I've  failed.  Work  stops 
to-morrow.  Out  of  money.  And  less  than  two  miles  to 
build!" 

Imogene's  face  became  a  picture  of  dismay. 

212 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Oh,  no,  Lee!  There  must  be  some  way  to  go  on,  some 
place  to  obtain  money,"  she  cried. 

"None.  I've  tried,  but  have  reached  the  end  of  my  rope. 
Only  twenty  thousand  more  needed,  or  maybe  twenty-five. 
Just  enough  to  hammer  through  during  the  next  two  weeks. 
But  it  might  as  well  be  a  million.  I  decided  to  inform  Ruth 
at  once;  she  might  consider  it  important." 

"She  would,"  said  she,  positively. 

"I  haven't  been  to  Sarita  Creek  before  since  you  returned. 
You  can  guess  why." 

"Yes." 

"Does  Ruth  suspect  that  I've  ceased  to  love  her?"  he 
asked,  frowning. 

"I  think  not.  There  was  considerable  talk  on  her  part 
about  being  bored  with  Kennard  and  how  happy  she  would 
be  when  she  was  married,  but  it  was  on  the  surface.  She's 
really  waiting  for  something  I'm  not  able  to  divine.  I'm 
reminded  when  I  observe  her  of  a  card-player  studying  a 
hand  before  the  cards  begin  to  fall." 

"Where  is  she  to-night?    With  Charlie  Menocal?" 

"WithGretzinger." 

"Gretzingerback?" 

"Arrived  in  Kennard  this  morning.  Two  days  ago 
Ruth  received  a  letter  with  a  New  York  post-mark  and 
became  very  animated.  I'm  sure  she  has  had  none  before. 
Then  late  this  afternoon  the  man  himself  appeared  here, 
ate  supper  with  us,  and  took  Ruth  off  to  a  concert  in 
town.  He  said  he  had  business  in  camp  with  you  to- 
morrow." 

"Ruth's  spirits  have  revived  and  her  retirement  has 

213 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

ended,"  Lee  remarked,  with  sarcasm.  "Well,  don't  say 
anything  about  this  now  to  either  of  them." 

"Oh,  I'll  be  long  asleep  when  they  return,  and  I'll  not 
speak  of  it  to  Ruth  in  the  morning.  She'll  not  rise  before 
noon,  I  suspect,  as  it  will  be  one  or  two  o'clock  before  they're 
home.  Or  she  may  stay  with  one  of  the  girls  she's  chummy 
with  and  come  up  with  him  to-morrow.  Probably  that." 

Lee  made  ready  to  go.  He  gave  Imogene  a  sardonic 
smile. 

"May  the  music  she  hears  to-night  strengthen  her  soul 
for  the  morrow's  smash,"  he  said;  and  went  out. 

Where  the  trail  from  the  cabins  debouched  upon  the  main 
mesa  road  he  slowed  the  car  to  a  stop  and  sat  for  a  time 
in  thought,  with  the  engine  humming  softly  and  the  freez- 
ing night  air  biting  at  his  cheeks.  It  seemed  to  make  little 
difference  where  he  went,  or  if  he  went  at  all.  Nothing 
worth  while  was  at  the  end  of  any  road.  His  inclination, 
however,  was  working  and  at  last  he  set  out  for  the  Graham 
ranch. 

Since  his  Christmas  visit  he  had  made  a  number  of  calls 
there,  a  rather  large  number,  indeed,  considering  everything. 
He  had  schooled  his  face  and  words  on  those  occasions  to  a 
passivity  he  was  far  from  feeling,  and  had  left  Louise's 
presence  each  time  with  a  greater  torment  of  mind.  Now 
this  was  the  end — of  her  as  of  everything  so  far  as  he  was 
concerned.  To-morrow  the  project  came  down  in  wreckage. 
Then  he  should  go  from  Perro  Creek,  poorer  in  purse,  poorer 
in  spirit,  poorer  in  faith,  sore,  and  bitterly  disillusionized. 

Louise  Graham  observed  a  shadow  upon  his  countenance 
as  she  invited  him  to  a  seat  before  the  fireplace.  Her  father 

214 


was  absent  and  she  had  been  reading  a  book  when  Bryant's 
knock  came.  She  had  been  wondering,  too,  if  the  engineer 
might  not  choose  this  night  to  call  again.  How  much  these 
calls  of  his  now  meant  to  her  she  did  not  dare  consider. 

"What's  wrong,  Lee?"  she  asked  at  once,  anxiously. 
"I  see  something  has  happened." 

He  moved  round  on  the  divan  that  he  might  fully  face 
her. 

"Everything  so  far  as  my  affairs  go,"  he  replied.  "Work 
stops  on  the  canal  to-morrow.  That  will  result,  of  course, 
in  the  water  right  lapsing  and  in  the  ditch  never  being  fin- 
ished or  used,  except  under  the  circumstance  of  my  handing 
over  my  interest  gratis  to  Gretzinger  and  the  bondholders. 
If  I  did  that  even,  I  don't  believe  Gretzinger  could  finish  it 
on  time,  for  neither  Carrigan  nor  the  men  would  exert  them- 
selves for  him  as  they  have  for  me,  and  they  would  be  sure 
of  their  pay  in  any  case.  The  trouble  is,  I've  used  up  all 
the  money  and  can  borrow  no  more.  I'm  through.  And  I 
can't  bring  myself  to  the  point  of  surrendering  my  interest 
in  the  company  to  the  bondholders  merely  to  pull  them  out. 
They're  trying  to  strangle  me  in  order  that  they  may  profit; 
they  could  put  up  the  cash  needed  easily  enough  if  they 
would;  but  they  count  on  my  yielding.  I  shall  not  do  so. 
And  so  the  project  fails.  Those  New  Yorkers  will  wait  too 
long  if  ever  they  do  put  up  the  funds;  and  I  can  do  nothing 
myself.  The  uncompleted  ditch  will  remain  simply  a  scar 
on  the  mesa." 

"I  never  dreamed  you  were  in  this  strait!" 

"No,  probably  not.  One  always  hopes  to  the  last  that 
somehow — by  a  credulous  belief  in  one's  own  letter  of  credit 

215 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

with  Providence,  I  presume — one  will  pull  through.  So  I 
delayed  telling  you  of  what  was  impending." 

" If— perhaps  father—" 

"Your  father?  No.  Above  all  persons,  no.  That's  a 
suggestion  I  can't  consider  for  an  instant." 

"But  what  will  you  do?"  she  exclaimed,  nervously. 

Lee  glanced  at  her,  then  compressed  his  lips. 

"I'm  going  away;  I  couldn't  stay  here  on  the  scene  of 
this  disaster.  It  would  be  intolerable.  Before  long  people 
will  be  describing  the  unfinished  project  by  the  name  of 
'  Bryant's  Folly',  or  the  like.  Haven't  you  seen  old,  window- 
less  structures  that  were  never  completed,  or  grass-grown 
railroad  embankments  never  ironed,  or  rusting  mine 
machinery  never  assembled?  Men's  failures,  men's 
'follies'." 

"Lee,  Lee!  It  never  will  be  so!"  she  cried.  "Nor  will 
your  project  be  a  failure  to  me  who  have  known  how  you've 
striven  and  sacrificed." 

Bryant  looked  past  her  and  about  the  room,  but  his  eyes 
in  the  end  came  back  to  hers. 

"You  have  always  been  generous  in  your  thoughts  of  me," 
he  said,  in  an  unsteady  voice. 

"No  more  than  you  deserved." 

"Listen,  Louise,"  he  went  on,  after  a  pause.  "This  is 
the  last  time  I  shall  see  you  for  a  long  time,  possibly  for  all 
time,  and  it's  of  your  kindness  I  wish  to  speak — and  of 
another  matter.  Of  course,  I  shouldn't  be  quite  human  if 
I  hadn't  complained  a  bit  about  this  blow,  but  my  com- 
plaints are  done  now.  I'll  possibly  do  some  grimacing  to 
myself  hereafter,  though.  What  I  came  to  say  is  that 

216 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

wherever  I  go  in  the  future  I'll  always  carry  with  me  as  a 
treasure  the  memory  of  your  goodness  and  of  your  face." 

Louise's  lips  had  parted,  while  the  colour  slowly  receded 
from  her  cheeks. 

"But  we  shall  see  each  other,"  she  gasped.  "We'll  meet, 
we  can  keep  in  touch."  After  a  silence  there  came  in  a 
whisper,  " Friends  should." 

Bryant  began  to  tremble.  He  turned  away  from  her  in 
order  to  gaze  into  the  fire.  Her  low  utterance  had  wrung 
the  chords  of  his  heart;  he  dared  not  allow  his  eyes  to  con- 
tinue to  dwell  upon  her  face. 

"What  good  in  that?  "  he  asked.  Then  he  gave  a  passion- 
ate shake  of  his  head.  "The  risk  for  me  is  too  great.  I 
shall  seek  an  engineering  billet  altogether  out  of  the  country, 
in  South  America,  in  Asia,  wherever  one  is  open.  A  job 
without  responsibility,  preferably.  No,  no;  I  can't  remain 
and  play  with  fire — any  longer." 

An  intense  stillness  rested  in  the  room  after  these  words. 
He  doubted  if  Louise  even  breathed. 

"Would  it  be  that?"  she  asked,  at  last. 

"Of  course.    Haven't  you  seen?" 

"I — I — — "  Her  voice  failed  her. 

"I  could  no  more  help  loving  you,  Louise,  after  I  came  to 
know  you,  than  can  the  earth  its  blooming  under  a  summer 
sun.  The  thing  was  inevitable."  He  was  speaking  now  in 
a  slow,  fixed  attempt  at  restraint.  "And  this  love  coming 
when  it  did,  after  I  was  betrothed  to  Ruth  Gardner,  is  the 
capping  madness  of  the  whole  nightmarish  situation  in  which 
I  find  myself.  '  Nightmarish '  isn't  an  exaggeration,  honestly. 
By  all  the  empty,  senseless  conventions  I  ought  to  seal  my 

217 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

lips  on  my  love  and  to  go  dumbly  away,  because  I'm  engaged 
to  Ruth  Gardner."  He  turned  abruptly  to  her.  "Do  you 
think  I  should?" 

Her  hands  were  locked  together  in  a  clasp  that  expelled 
the  blood  and  left  them  white.  Her  regard  had  the  intent- 
ness  of  a  stare. 

"If  you  love  me,  if  you're  going  away "  She  sud- 
denly became  agitated.  "Oh,  I  am  unhappy!"  And  with 
a  quick  movement  she  bent  her  head  aside. 

"Louise,  forgive  me  for  causing  this  distress,"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

Without  looking  about  she  put  out  a  hand,  touched  and 
pressed  his.  The  unexpected  act  filled  Bryant  with  amaze- 
ment. He  sat  gazing  stupidly  at  the  hand  until  she  with- 
drew it.  Then  he  found  an  explanation. 

"You  feel  compassion  for  me,"  he  said.  "You  would.'' 
A  sound,  low,  inarticulate,  reached  him.  "It's  your  kind 
nature  to  make  some  return  for  my  love  even  if  it's  not  love 
you  can  give.  Or  ought  to  give!  I'm  expecting  nothing, 
can  expect  nothing.  That  is  out  of  the  question.  If  I  were 
entirely  calm  and  rational,  I  should  doubtless  be  asking  my- 
self why  I  should  speak  of  my  passion  instead  of  trying  to 
tear  it  out  of  my  heart.  But,  of  course,  being  in  love  I'm 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  The  only  explanation  for 
the  impulse  to  pour  out  a  confession  like  this  is  overcharged 
nerves.  Or,  after  all,  is  it  just  unconscious  egotism?  "  His 
composure  had  slipped  off  and  his  tone  had  grown  savage. 

"Don't,  don't,  Lee !    Don't  cut  at  yourself ! " 

"What  was  it  I  had  started  to  say?  Oh,  yes.  I  had 
said  I  felt  no  compunction  in  brushing  aside  the  usual  con- 

218 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

ventions  of  duty  as  proscribed  for  an  engaged  man.  Cob- 
webs in  my  case!  Why  pretend  lies?  No  honour  is  in- 
volved that  I  can  discover.  I  don't  love  Ruth,  and  I  think 
she's  incapable  of  loving  me  or  any  one  else.  She  never 
felt  half  the  affection  I  did  for  her,  and  mine  withered 
quickly,  God  knows!  A  dash  of  passion  on  my  part,  and 
lonesomeness  and  the  belief  I  should  have  wealth  on  her 
side — there's  the  salad." 

Louise  leaned  forward  a  little  breathlessly. 

"And  if  she  believes  you're  ruined?"  she  asked. 

"She'll  hold  me  if  she  thinks  she  can't  do  better,"  Lee 
responded,  bitterly.  "I  at  least  beat  homesteading." 

"Lee!" 

Louise  had  risen.  The  pallor  of  her  face  startled  him. 
Her  hands  were  fast  clenched. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked,  fearfully. 

"I  can  bear  this.  To  have  you  love  me — love  me  and  go 
away !  It  will  break  my  heart.  To  stay  here  alone ! " 

The  words  struck  his  brain  as  if  they  were  cast  in  a  fierce 
glare  of  light.  The  suddenness  of  the  knowledge  they  gave, 
the  revelation  they  made,  left  him  speechless.  Louise 
loved  him  in  return.  The  first  effect  upon  his  mind  was  to 
produce  a  blank  incredulity;  he  stared  at  her  as  if  to  ascer- 
tain whether  or  not  this  was  in  truth  she;  for  though  he  well 
knew  he  possessed  her  friendship,  he  had  never  conceived  so 
fantastic  a  possibility  as  that  of  winning  her  love.  Then 
a  swift  exaltation  succeeded.  He  swam  in  a  kind  of  spiritual 
ether. 

"Louise,  Louise,  my  dear  beloved!"  he  murmured. 

He  caught  her  hand,  pressed  it.  She  glanced  at  him 

219 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

without  replying,  looked  away,  back  again.  Her  bosom  rose 
and  fell  with  a  slow  and  tremulous  movement,  as  though  stir- 
ring with  deep,  soundless  sighs.  A  little  smile  hovered  on 
her  lips,  tender,  rapturous. 

But  at  length  she  withdrew  her  hand,  while  the  soft  glad- 
ness passed  from  her  face. 

"It  cannot  be;  you  must  go,  Lee,"  she  said. 

Bryant  remembered — and  felt  the  ice  forming  about  his 
heart.  He  shivered  slightly.  The  full  cruelty  of  the  situ- 
ation was  reached.  Ruth  Gardner  not  only  held  him,  but 
he  held  her  as  well  by  a  thread  to  which  she  could  cling  for 
safety  against  the  blandishments  of  scoundrels,  and  her  own 
desires,  and  the  dark  uncertainty  of  the  future.  And  much 
as  he  loved  Louise  Graham,  he  could  not  snap  that  thread ; 
much  as  he  detested  Ruth,  he  lacked  the  flintiness  of  heart 
to  let  her  slip  into  the  abyss.  Nor  would  Louise  have  it 
otherwise. 

She  was  seeking  his  eyes,  questioning  them. 

"Well,  this  hour  is  worth  it  all  to  me,"  he  said,  calmly. 
"All  of  the  unhappiness  of  the  past,  and  all  the  loneliness  of 
the  future!  I  am  poor  now;  in  that  fact  lies  what  hope  I 
have." 

A  gentle  inclination  of  her  head  answered  him. 

"I  am  happy  to-night,  anyway,"  said  she. 

"The  only  thing  for  me  to  do  is  to  remain  away  from  you," 
he  answered.  "Heaven  knows  I  shall  be  miserable  enough 
then,  but  I  should  grow  desperate  if  I  were  near." 

"I  know.     We  mustn't  see  each  other,  Lee  dear." 

He  walked  to  where  his  storm  coat  and  cap  lay  on  a  chair 
by  the  door.  In  silence  he  drew  on  and  buttoned  the  former. 

220 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

She  had  accompanied  him  to  the  spot  and  watched  with 
moisture  on  her  lashes  his  preparation  for  departure.  His 
eyes  were  lowered  while  his  ringers  were  engaged  with  the 
buttons. 

"You  should  understand  about  this/'  he  said,  grimly. 
"That  man  Gretzinger  is  after  her.  She  has  no  money,  no 
training  to  earn  money,  is  crazy  for  pleasure  and  attention 
and  clothes.  I  ought  in  all  decency  to  break  our  engage- 
ment. She  has  given  me  grounds  enough.  But  it's  keep- 
ing her  straight.  If  I  broke  it" — his  hand  dropped  to  his 
side  and  he  stood  for  a  moment  quite  still — "he  drags  her 
under. ' '  His  gaze  rose  to  hers. 

"  I  guessed  it  long  ago,"  she  said,  in  a  choked  voice.  "And 
loved  you  for  it."  Next  instant  she  leaned  forward,  took 
his  temples  between  her  hands,  and  lightly  touched  his  brow 
with  her  lips.  "Go,  go!"  she  exclaimed,  with  an  accent  of 
despair. 

She  herself  turned  and  went  quickly  out  of  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

Bryant  had  asked  Carrigan  to  come  to  the  office  at  two 
o'clock,  stating  that  the  company  was  insolvent  and  but 
enough  money  remained  to  square  accounts  with  the  con- 
tractor. Pat  had  cast  a  shrewd  glance  at  Lee  and  nodded. 
This  was  during  the  morning.  Afterward  the  engineer  had 
gone  for  a  visit  to  the  dam,  the  drops,  and  the  canal  line,  a 
last  view  of  the  project  as  a  whole;  and  the  ride  was  pursued 
in  that  peculiar  melancholy  of  spirit  which  appertains  to 
mortuary  events.  To  him,  indeed,  the  ride  marked  a 
burial,  a  burial  of  high  hopes  and  ambition,  and  of  his  youth, 
with  the  partially  excavated  canal  providing  their  pit  and 
the  concrete  work  standing  as  a  headstone. 

He  came  back  to  camp  somewhat  late  for  his  appoint- 
ment and  found  Pat  waiting  in  the  office,  but  not  alone. 
Gretzinger  stood,  back  to  the  stove,  smoking  a  Turkish 
cigarette. 

"Well,  Bryant,  I've  returned  to  discuss  our  little  business 
transaction,"  he  greeted.  "Judged  this  to  be  about  the 
right  tune.  How's  the  exchequer?" 

"Little  in  it,"  said  Lee,  hanging  his  coat  and  cap  on  a 
hook.  "But  I  made  sure  it  was  locked  before  leaving  here; 
you  might  come  any  moment." 

"Oh,  I  don't  waste  time  on  an  empty  box,"  was  the  light 
answer.  "  Mind  if  Carrigan  hears  what  we  say?  Don't,  eh? 

222 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Neither  do  I.  He  knows,  or  ought  to  know,  you're  through. 
And  besides,  I'll  want  to  discuss  construction  matters  with 
him  when  you  and  I  are  done." 

"Perhaps  Bryant  can  yet  secure  a  loan  somewhere,"  the 
contractor  remarked,  mildly. 

"From  Menocal,  possibly,"  Gretzinger  suggested,  cocking 
his  eyebrows  at  Carrigan  with  mock  enthusiasm.  "If 
Bryant  could  have  secured  a  loan,  he  would  have  had  it  in 
his  pocket  before  this.  I  made  inquiry  of  McDonnell  when 
I  reached  Kennard  concerning  the  company's  cash  account 
and  discovered  that  it  looked  awful  sick.  No,  he  can't  get 
money  for  the  company  except  through  me." 

"I  see,"  said  Pat. 

Gretzinger  turned  to  Bryant. 

"Now,  Lee,  let's  get  down  to  brass  tacks.  You're  played 
out  as  manager  and  engineer-in-chief,  so  it's  time  for  you  to 
step  out  and  give  the  men  who  are  able  a  chance  to  complete 
the  work.  I  made  you  one  offer;  I'm  prepared  to-day  to 
make  even  a  better  one.  The  bondholders  went  thoroughly 
into  the  subject  with  me  of  what  they  could  afford  to  pay 
you  for  your  stock  and  a  decision  was  finally  reached  to  give 
you  ten  thousand  dollars  for  your  interest  in  the  company. 
Considering  everything,  that's  exceedingly  liberal.  I'm 
authorized  to  draw  a  check  for  that  amount  to  your  order 
when  you've  assigned  the  shares." 

"Not  enough,"  Lee  replied.  He  sat  down  at  his  desk, 
lifted  his  feet  to  a  window  ledge,  and  held  a  match  to  his 
pipe. 

"That's  the  limit." 

"It's  not  enough;  I  need  more." 

223 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"What  you  need  and  what  you'll  take  are  two  different 
things,"  the  other  stated,  sarcastically. 

"  Go  higher,"  Lee  said,  with  his  gaze  upon  the  window. 

"Not  a  cent!" 

"I  owe  McDonnell  twenty  thousand  that  has  gone  into 
the  canal.  I've  put  in  my  ranch,  and  land  I  traded  for  it, 
and  months  of  work  and  organization — value  twenty  thou- 
sand; and  I  figure  my-present  control  of  things  worth  twenty 
thousand  more.  But  let  us  say  fifty  thousand.  I'll  sell  for 
fifty  thousand;  that  gives  you  my  stock  at  fifty  cents  on  the 
dollar.  Exceedingly  liberal,  I  call  it." 

The  look  the  other  directed  at  him  was  heavy  with  con- 
tempt. 

"Ten  thousand  is  all — and  make  up  your  mind  to  that," 
said  he.  Then  he  faced  round  toward  Carrigan,  whom  he 
addressed.  "I  want  you  to  increase  the  force  to  double  its 
strength  at  once,  so  that  the  work " 

"What  are  you  paying  a  yard  for  moving  dirt?" 

"The  same  as  before." 

"Not  to  me,"  Pat  responded,  complacently. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Gretzinger  demanded,  angrily. 

"It's  not  enough." 

"Not  enough!  You  seem  to  imagine  your  contract 
doesn't  bind  you." 

Pat  slowly  uncrossed  his  knees  and  stared  at  the  speaker 
with  a  countenance  of  bewilderment. 

"Now  what  in  the  world  is  the  man  talking  about!  Con- 
tract? The  only  contract  I  had  with  Bryant  was  an  oral 
agreement  to  build  the  dam  and  move  dirt  at  a  certain  day 
rate  per  man  and  per  team,  terminable  at  his  option.  Oh, 

224 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

you  mean  the  first  contract  to  construct  the  ditch  in  a  year! 
We  tore  that  up  after  he  got  notice  from  the  Land  and  Water 
Board." 

"Well,  we'll  continue  the  oral  arrangement." 

"Not  any  more,"  said  Pat. 

Gretzinger  inspected  the  coal  of  his  cigarette,  replaced  the 
latter  between  his  lips,  and  glanced  at  Bryant.  But  the 
engineer  was  maintaining  his  consideration  of  objects  on  the 
outside  of  the  window. 

"So  you're  trying  to  hold  me  up,"  was  Gretzinger's  re- 
mark. 

"You're  slicing  the  fat  off  Bryant,  and  therefore  I'll  trim 
a  bit  off  you,"  Carrigan  replied.  "You're  not  the  only  one 
who  can  work  a  knife.  Once  I  used  to  sit  back  and  let 
others  keep  all  the  easy  money,  but  I  don't  any  more,  not 
any  more."  With  considerable  relish  he  rolled  the  words 
upon  his  tongue  and  nodded  at  Gretzinger. 

The  latter  scowled. 

"How  much  do  you  want?"  he  demanded. 

Pat  spat,  then  remained  pursing  his  lips  while  he  engaged 
in  calculation.  Once  he  shook  his  head  and  muttered, 
"Not  enough,"  and  again  after  a  time  repeated  the  words. 
The  man  by  the  stove  glared  at  the  seated  contractor  during 
the  prolonged  period  of  study  as  if  he  hoped  his  look  would 
consume  him. 

"How  much?"  he  questioned  a  second  time,  impatiently. 

Pat  looked  up  at  Gretzinger  from  under  his  bushy  eye- 
brows with  a  steely  glint  showing.  The  lines  of  his  weather- 
beaten  face  had  hardened. 

"I  don't  like  you,"  he  stated.  "I  don't  like  you  at  all. 

225 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

When  I  work  for  people  I  don't  like,  it  costs  them  money. 
I  like  you  less  and  less  all  the  time.  If  I  go  ahead  and  finish 
the  ditch,  I'll  be  liking  you  so  little  that  I'll  be  hating  my- 
self. And  when  I  don't  like  any  one  that  much,  I  don't  do 
it  cheap.  The  job  will  cost  you  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars." 

"You — you "  Gretzinger  choked. 

"Cash  down  before  I  move  a  wheel,"  Pat  added,  calmly. 

The  other  was  white  with  rage.  He  cast  his  cigarette 
upon  the  floor  and  ground  it  under  his  heel.  His  lips 
worked  and  twisted  in  a  vicious  snarl.  Carrigan  observed 
him  unmoved;  and  Bryant  had  turned  his  head  about  to 
see. 

"You  grafters,  you  infernal  thieves,  you  pair  of  rotten 
crooks!"  he  shouted,  shooting  murderous  glances  from  one 
to  the  other.  "You've  l framed '  me !  Arranged  it  between 
you.  Been  waiting  for  me  to  come  back  so  you  could  spring 
your  game!  If  there's  any  law  in  this  state,  I'll  have  you 
both  where  you  belong  for  deliberately  wrecking  this  com- 
pany— in  a  cell!" 

His  raving  outburst  continued  for  a  while  in  this  strain. 
His  voice  had  the  high  and  squealing  pitch  of  a  wild  pig 
caught  fast  by  a  foot;  on  his  pink,  fleshy  face,  now  distended 
with  anger,  was  a  look,  too,  of  porcine  hate  and  fury.  The 
cynical  and  patronizing  manner  he  usually  affected  had 
dropped  off,  leaving  revealed  his  actual  coarse,  spiteful, 
greedy,  craven  spirit— a  creature  of  infinite  meanness.  At 
length,  however,  Gretzinger's  torrent  of  abuse  diminished 
until  it  ended  in  a  last  muddy  dripping  of  threats  and 
curses.  With  an  effort  he  strove  to  pull  himself  together 

226 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

and  assume  a  composure  his  eyes  belied,  while  he  lighted 
another  of  his  offensive  Turkish  cigarettes. 

After  a  time  he  said  shortly: 

"You  can't  bluff  me.  When  you  fellows  get  down  to  my 
figures,  then  we'll  do  business." 

"Look  out!  Your  coat  is  scorching — or  is  it  only  that 
tobacco?"  Bryant  rejoined. 

Gretzinger  stepped  hastily  aside  and  felt  behind  him, 
where  his  hand  moved  about  on  the  hot  cloth  fabric  with 
searching  movements.  The  solicitude  for  his  garment  thus 
quickened  seemed  to  effect  the  final  dispersion  of  his  inward 
heat. 

"Well,  are  we  going  to  get  together  on  an  arrangement?" 
he  questioned,  when  assured  his  coat  was  uninjured. 

"I  stated  my  terms — fifty  thousand,"  Lee  said.  "That 
or  nothing." 

"You  won't  get  it." 

"Then  there's  the  alternative  of  the  bondholders  putting 
up  money  enough  to  finish  the  work." 

"That,  neither." 

"All  right,  Gretzinger,"  Bryant  stated,  rising.  "You 
have  an  idea  that  I'll  give  in " 

"Yes,  I  have.  You'll  grab  this  ten  thousand  I  offer,  grab 
it  quick  by  to-morrow  night,  which  is  the  limit  I  set  for  it  to 
remain  open.  I've  seen  men  before  in  a  tight  hole  who 
swore  they  wouldn't  take  the  terms  hande'd  them,  but  they 
always  did  in  the  end,  and  so  will  you.  Only  a  fool  wouldn't. 
And  I  fancy  Carrigan  won't  sacrifice  a  good  piece  of  work  in 
a  dull  season  and  pull  off  his  men  and  teams." 

Pat  hoisted  himself  off  his  seat  stiffly. 

227 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Why  don't  your  outfit  sell  instead  of  trying  to  buy?" 
he  asked,  crossing  to  Lee's  desk  and  obtaining  a  can  of 
tobacco  sitting  there.  "I  suppose  they'll  sell."  He  began 
to  stuff  his  pipe,  pressing  the  tobacco  into  the  bowl  with  a 
brown  forefinger. 

"Certainly;  they  would  unload  what  they  have  in  this 
rotten  project  so  fast  that  the  bonds  would  smoke.  But 
who  in  the  devil  would  touch  them?  " 

"I  might." 

"You?"  Gretzinger  began  to  laugh.  "What  have  you 
besides  your  outfit?  They're  not  taking  worn-out  fresnos  in 
exchange  to-day,  thank  you." 

"And  what  are  the  three  bondholders  you  represent 
worth?  "  Pat  inquired,  in  a  nettled  tone. 

"Half  a  million  each,  or  more." 

Carrigan's  brows  rose  contemptuously. 

"Is  that  all?"  he  exclaimed.  "Why,  from  the  way  you 
talked,  I  thought  they  were  real  financiers!  And  they're 
only  pifHing  tin-horns,  after  all.  What  d'you  know  about 
that,  Lee?"  Pat  turned  to  the  engineer  with  an  amazed 
air. 

Gretzinger's  anger  surged  up  anew. 

"You  never  saw  half  a  million  in  your  life,"  he  sneered. 

"  I  could  buy  out  all  three  of  them  with  what  I  have  in  one 
trust  company  in  Chicago  alone,"  was  the  unperturbed 
reply.  "It's  cheap  sports  like  you  that  make  a  real  man 
sick.  How  much  for  the  bonds?  You  want  to  unload. 
Speak  up ;  how  much?  " 

Despite  his  anger,  the  other's  brain  perceived  that  the  con- 
tractor was  in  earnest. 

228 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"The  amount  of  the  face  of  both  bonds  and  stock,  with 
interest  on  the  former  to  date,"  he  answered  quickly. 

"I  buy  only  bargains,"  was  Carrigan's  dry  statement. 

"One  hundred  thousand  then." 

"You're  still  sailing  way  up  in  the  clouds.  The  stock  was 
a  bonus,  Gretzinger;  it  cost  your  parties  nothing.  So  it's 
only  the  bonds  that  count.  And  the  project  is  rotten,  it 
may  not  be  finished  on  time,  be  a  dead  loss;  your  men  want 
to  get  out  from  under;  they'll  jump  at  the  chance  to  sell, 
you  say.  All  right.  They  can  unload  on  me.  Wire  them 
to  deposit  the  bonds  and  stock  in  any  New  York  bank  and 
draw  on  McDonnell  for  forty  thousand  dollars.  That's 
what  I'll  give." 

Gretzinger  walked  to  the  wall,  where  he  reached  down 
his  overcoat  and  put  it  on. 

"The  ditch  will  go  to  weeds  first,"  he  said. 

"The  offer's  open  until  to-morrow  night,"  said  Pat. 

"You  bloodsuckers  can't  put  anything  over  on  me,"  was 
the  Easterner's  departing  declaration,  as  he  opened  the  door. 
"I'm  on  to  you,  Carrigan.  You're  backing  Bryant  and 
will  finish  the  ditch.  We'll  just  sit  tight  on  our  bonds  and 
stock." 

Pat  watched  him  go. 

"I  hate  to  make  money  for  men  like  them,"  he  remarked 
to  the  engineer,  "but  I  guess  I  can't  help  it,  because  I'll  not 
let  you  down,  Lee,  for  a  matter  of  cash  payment.  I'll  ad- 
vance what's  necessary  and  take  a  company  note.  May- 
be you're  wondering  why  I  let  you  sweat  all  this  time? 
Because  you  needed  the  experience.  You  laid  down  too 
easy.  All  the  time  that  you  were  thinking  the  game  was 

229 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

up,  I  was  waiting  for  you  to  grab  my  leg  and  begin  to  pull. 
But  you  never  did." 

"You  had  done  too  much  for  me  already,  Pat;  and  though 
I  supposed  you  were  well-fixed  I  had  no  idea  you  were 
wealthy.  The  thought  you  might  risk  twenty  thousand 
dollars " 

"Why  not?  I  know  this  project  better  than  any  banker; 
it's  sound,  it's  about  completed,"  the  old  man  interrupted. 
"All  that's  necessary  is  to  take  a  long  breath  and  push  hard 
for  three  weeks  more.  Sometimes  I  think  you  have  the 
making  of  a  fair  engineer,  Lee,  but  you  discourage  me  dread- 
fully when  I  try  to  picture  you  as  a  financier.  I'm  afraid 
you'll  wind  up  like  one  of  these  bondholders  of  Gretzingers, 
just  piffling." 

Lee  went  to  stand  at  the  window,  so  that  Carrigan  could 
not  see  his  face.  Emotion  had  unmanned  him.  He  would 
not  have  even  Pat  know  how  strongly  he  was  moved  by 
this  act  of  magnanimity. 

"Well,  I  better  be  getting  back  to  the  ditch,"  said  the 
contractor,  presently. 


230 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

A  week  later  the  long-belated  big  storm  appeared  at  hand. 
McDonnell  telephoned  Bryant  one  morning,  a  morning  in 
February  now,  that  the  weather  forecast  predicted  blizzard 
conditions  sweeping  down  the  Rocky  Mountain  region  from 
the  Northwest.  A  mile  of  excavation  yet  remained  to  do. 
Lee  at  once  sent  Saurez  and  other  Mexicans  abroad  in  the 
native  settlements  with  offers  of  double  wages  and  this 
drew  the  most  indolent  back  to  camp  again.  They  were 
flung  into  the  night  shift,  which  toiled  with  increased  vigour 
at  news  of  the  impending  storm.  For  two  days  and  nights 
the  desperate  effort  was  pushed  while  the  sky  continued 
clear,  with  the  crews  of  both  camps  attacking  the  iron 
earth  and  steadily  forging  closer. 

Bryant  scarcely  slept  during  that  time,  or  ate.  Toward 
morning,  when  the  night  shift  went  off,  he  would  cast  him- 
self down  fully  dressed  and  drawing  the  blankets  to  his  chin 
sleep  restlessly  for  two  or  three  hours,  then  again  rise  to 
drive  the  work.  The  third  day  came  sunny  and  quiet,  but 
with  heavy  warmth  in  the  air  wholly  strange  to  the  season. 
During  the  night  both  Lee  and  Pat  had  continually  and 
anxiously  watched  the  peaks  of  the  Ventisquero  Range  for 
portent  of  the  change  imminent  in  the  weather;  and  now  on 
this  morning  they  beheld  about  the  crests  long,  low-lying 
layers  of  gray  cloud. 

231 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Again  McDonnell  telephoned,  but  now  with  particulars 
of  the  storm.  It  was  general  in  character,  covering  the 
states  from  the  Canadian  line  southward,  with  very  low 
temperatures  and  raging  furiously,  destroying  wire  com- 
munications and  blocking  railroads,  and  at  the  moment  was 
bearing  down  across  Utah,  Colorado,  and  Kansas.  The 
entire  region  from  the  Pacific  coast  to  the  Mississippi  was 
in  its  grasp. 

"Ten  days  is  all  that's  left  of  our  time,"  Lee  said  to  the 
contractor,  with  a  heavy  heart.  "And  no  one  can  tell  how 
long  this  weather  spree  will  last." 

"It's  not  a  mile  we've  got  to  go  any  more,  any  way. 
With  what  we'll  do  to-day  it  will  be  half  a  mile  of  dirt 
moved  in  three  days.  That  leaves  but  half  a  mile.  This 
storm  may  be  played  out  when  it  reaches  us."  But  the 
worry  on  his  face  showed  that  he  put  little  faith  in  this 
possibility. 

What  he  stated  in  regard  to  the  ditch  was  true.  The 
work  of  night  and  day  had  eaten  well  into  the  remaining 
mile  between  the  two  camps.  To  be  sure,  it  had  been 
rushed  work:  the  sides  of  the  ditch  were  gouged  and  ragged, 
the  bottom  uneven  and  rutted,  and  the  removed  dirt  was 
piled  anywhere  along  its  banks.  But  nevertheless  there 
was  a  canal,  dug  on  grade  and  to  measurement,  and  capable 
of  carrying  water. 

During  the  afternoon  a  pair  of  men  drove  two  lines  of 
waist-high  stakes  to  mark  the  survey  of  the  short  section  of 
ground  yet  untouched,  doing  this  under  Carrigan's  super- 
vision. In  case  snow  came,  he  told  Lee,  he  wanted  some- 
thing he  could  see.  "Nine  hundred  yards  of  unbuilt  ditch 

232 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

will  be  lying  buried,"  he  added,  "and  I  don't  propose  to 
paw  up  the  whole  mesa  finding  this  section." 

About  four  o'clock  Bryant  rejoined  him. 

"Still  lovely,"  said  Pat  with  a  grin.  "I've  just  set  some 
plows  tearing  up  the  scalp  on  another  two  hundred  yards. 
If  this  storm  will  just  hang  off  for  three  or  four  days  longer, 
it  can  come  and  welcome.  I'll  have  my  fresnos  stacked  and 
waiting  to  go  down  to  Kennard." 

"Take  a  look  at  the  northwest,"  said  Bryant,  signifi- 
cantly. 

A  smoky  haze  lay  along  the  horizon. 

"Aye,  I  see.  That's  her  hair  blowing  out  ahead.  There 
will  be  plenty  of  wind  after  awhile,  I'm  thinking.  Get 
word  to  the  men  in  camp,  will  you,  to  make  all  the  tents 
tight." 

At  sundown  the  haze  in  the  west  had  thickened  somewhat. 
The  air,  however,  remained  warm,  almost  oppressive,  and 
the  sharp  cold  that  usually  fell  at  night  was  wanting.  The 
Ventisquero  Peaks  were  hidden  by  a  mass  of  cloud.  At 
seven  o'clock  the  night  crew  began  work,  as  ordinarily;  no 
wind  was  stirring  and  the  steam  that  came  from  the  horses' 
nostrils  was  light. 

"I'm  taking  a  little  time  to  skip  down  to  Sarita  Creek 
and  see  if  those  girls  are  still  there.  If  they  took  a  notion 
to  stick,  they'd  try  to  do  it,  whether  McDonnell  sent  after 
them  or  not.  But  I'll  pry  them  out.  If  the  storm  breaks 
in  a  hurry,  get  the  men  and  teams  into  camp  at  once.  Don't 
take  any  chances,  Pat."  Thus  spoke  Bryant. 

"Aye,  I've  seen  blizzards  before,"  was  the  reply. 

Lee  sped  rapidly  toward  Sarita  Creek,  with  the  head- 

233 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

lights  of  his  car  casting  their  glow  before  him  upon  the  dark 
road.  The  silence  of  the  night  was  broken  only  by  the 
steady  humming  of  his  engine.  The  mesa  seemed  very 
hushed,  unstirring,  unnatural. 

When  he  reached  the  girls'  cabins,  he  saw  that  the  win- 
dows of  each  were  lighted.  The  girls  were  there.  What 
incredible  folly!  Then  his  lamps  brought  into  view  an 
automobile.  He  breathed  relief.  Someone  had  come  for 
them.  Alighting  he  walked  forward  and  knocked  on  Ruth's 
door.  When  it  was  opened  by  Ruth,  he  discovered  Gret- 
zinger  seated  within. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it?    WeU,  come  in,"  Ruth  said. 

She  wore  a  pink  party  gown,  with  her  throat  and 
smooth,  round  arms  showing  through  some  filmy  stuff  that 
was  part  of  the  creation.  Bryant  had  never  seen  her  so 
dressed;  she  looked  very  youthful  and  charming,  almost 
beautiful. 

"There's  a  party  atKennard  to-night,"  said  she,  before 
Lee  could  open  his  mouth  to  make  an  explanation  of  his 
presence,  "and  Mr.  Gretzinger's  taking  me.  He  just  came. 
Sorry  you  chose  to-night  to  call,  Lee.  And  we're  starting 
immediately."  She  reached  forth  and  gave  Lee  a  pat  on 
the  cheek,  at  the  same  time  smiling. 

Bryant  continued  stony  under  the  touch,  under  the  smile, 
under  the  false  affection.  He  gazed  at  her  and  detected 
beneath  her  apparent  good  spirits  and  loveliness  a  sup- 
pressed excitement.  His  glance  went  to  Gretzinger;  the 
man  was  observing  them  with  a  restless,  frowning  face. 
On  the  instant  the  truth  flashed  into  Bryant's  brain.  She 
was  cunningly  playing  him  off  against  the  New  Yorker,  using 

234 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

him  as  a  lay  figure  in  her  despicable  game,  bestowing  endear- 
ments to  anger  Gretzinger  and  arouse  his  jealousy. 

"I  came  to  tell  you  a  big  storm  is  brewing,"  he  said  quickly. 
"You  and  Imogene  must  plan  to  stay  in  Kennard  for  some 
time.  If  a  heavy  fall  of  snow  occurs,  the  mesa  will  be  closed 
for  ten  days  or  two  weeks  with  the  temperature  very  low." 

"Then  I'll  pack  my  things  in  my  suit-case  so  that  I  can 
remain  that  long,"  Ruth  exclaimed.  "I'll  stay  with  Mabel 
Seybolt.  Imogene's  uncle  sent  up  his  car  this  morning, 
but  I  didn't  imagine  there  was  any  really  bad  storm  coming 
and  sent  it  back.  I  doubt  if  the  snow  amounts  to  much, 
anyway.  The  weather's  too  warm."  Nevertheless,  she 
began  to  fill  a  suit-case. 

"I'll  tell  Imogene  also,"  Lee  said. 

Ruth's  eyes  turned  toward  Gretzinger  with  an  inquiring 
look. 

"There  won't  be  room  for  three  of  us,  will  there?" 

"No,"  he  answered. 

Her  regard  still  continued  directed  at  him. 

"I'm  sure  there  won't  be,"  she  said,  with  conviction. 
"It  probably  won't  storm  before  to-morrow,  in  any  case. 
I'll  tell  Mr.  McDonnell  in  the  morning  and  he  can  send  up 
his  big  car  for  her." 

"Or  you  can  take  her  to  town  yourself,"  Gretzinger  added 
in  an  indifferent  tone. 

"I  can't  spare  the  time,"  Lee  said. 

"But  dearie,  I'll  be  done  packing  in  two  minutes,  while 
it  will  take  Imogene  half  an  hour,"  Ruth  replied.  "She's 
too  slow  to  wait  for.  And  she  has  one  of  her  eternal 
headaches,  too." 

235 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Ruth  was  hurriedly  removing  articles  from  her  trunk  to 
the  suit-case. 

" Listen,  please,"  Lee  said,  addressing  her.  "If  Imo 
remains  she  may  become  snowbound,  and  if  snowbound, 
freeze.  I  can't  go,  I  can't  possibly  go.  With  this  storm 
coming,  I  must  stay  at  camp.  As  things  are,  a  blizzard 
may  put  me  out  of  business." 

Ruth  straightened  up  to  confront  him. 

"You  mean  the  work  would  stop,  that  you  couldn't 
finish  it  on  time?  " 

"That's  just  what  I  mean." 

"Why?"     Gretzinger  spoke.     "You  have  ten  days  left." 

"Yes,  and  what  are  ten  days  with  two  feet  of  snow  on 
the  ground  and  the  mercury  forty  below  zero?"  Bryant 
retorted. 

Gretzinger  stood  up,  glanced  at  his  watch,  and  buttoned 
his  overcoat.  He  then  bent  down  and  set  to  work  buckling 
the  straps  of  the  suit-case  Ruth  had  closed. 

"You  do  seem  to  get  into  every  possible  kind  of  trouble, 
Lee,"  the  girl  said. 

"Perhaps  I  do.  But  the  point  now  is  about  Imogene. 
Will  you  take  her  with  you,  or  not? " 

"Mr.  McDonnell  can  send  for  her  to-morrow;  that  will  be 
soon  enough." 

"My  God,  you  leave  her!    With  a  blizzard  coming!" 

"I  don't  think  there'll  be  a  blizzard.  Or  if  there  is,  she 
can  get  along  comfortably  till  her  uncle  comes." 

"Are  you  ready,  Ruth?"  Gretzinger  asked,  impatiently. 

"Yes,  as  soon  as  I  fasten  my  gloves.  Anyway,  Lee,  you 
can  take  her  to  Kennard  if  you  want  to.  It's  because  you're 

236 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

just  obstinate.  Besides,  she  didn't  have  to  come  up  here; 
I  told  her  so;  I  could  have  got  along  without  her — much 
better,  probably,  for  she's  always  finding  fault;  she  came 
on  her  own  responsibility  and  so  can  look  out  for  herself; 
and  if  you're  so  anxious  for  fear  she'll  freeze,  why,  take  her. 
It  won't  make  any  difference  about  your  ditch  that  I  can  see, 
for  you  say  you'll  very  likely  lose  it,  anyway.  Now  you'll 
have  to  excuse  us;  we're  going.  Blow  out  the  light,  please, 
and  lock  the  door,  our  hands  are  full.  Give  the  key  to  Imo 
to  keep." 

Two  minutes  later  Gretzinger's  car  was  gone  with  a  swirl 
of  the  headlights  as  it  circled  and  with  a  sudden  roar  of  its 
exhaust.  Lee  extinguished  the  light  and  closed  the  cabin. 
To  him  that  little  house  seemed  poignant  with  tragedy; 
and  he  knew,  whatever  came,  his  foot  would  never  be  set  in 
it  again. 

He  found  Imogene  sitting  beside  her  sheet-iron  stove, 
wrapped  in  a  quilt  and  coughing. 

"I  heard  your  car  come  after  his;  I  knew  it  was  you," 
she  greeted  him. 

Lee  regarded  her  closely. 

"You're  sick,"  he  said.  "You  ought  to  be  in  bed. 
Ruth  stated  that  you  had  a  headache  and  now  I  discover 
you  in  a  coughing  fit  bad  enough  to  take  off  your  head.  Is 
your  throat  sore?" 

"A  little." 

"Why  in  the  name  of  all  that's  sensible  haven't  you 
gone  to  your  uncle's?  I  begin  to  think  you're  unbalanced." 

"I  explained  my  reasons  once,  Lee."  She  coughed 
again,  then  continued,  "Ruth  and  I  quarrelled  Christmas 

237 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

because  of  actions  of  hers  and  aunt  said  she  must  leave  the 
house.  That's  why  you  were  not  asked  then.  But  she 
made  it  up  afterward  and  so  I  came  when  she  did,  for  she 
was  determined  to  live  here  where  she  could  be  free.  I  just 
had  to  come." 

"And  now  she's  leaving  you  in  the  face  of  the  worst 
storm  this  winter,  the  ingrate!"  Bryant  exclaimed.  "To- 
night's work  finishes  her  with  me.  She  may  go  to  eternal 
damnation  so  far  as  I'm  concerned.  I'm  done!  She  re- 
fused, she  would  have  left  you  here  to  freeze,  she  set  your 
life  against  her  convenience!  And  after  you  had  sacrificed 
your  comfort  and  undergone  hardships  to  save  her  good 
name!  There's  no  limit  to  her  selfishness  and  miserable 
hypocrisy.  Our  efforts  and  consideration  haven't  re- 
strained her  a  particle,  and  she  will  tread  the  road  she 
chooses  irrespective  of  our  desires  or  feelings.  What  fools 
we've  been!  You  and  I,  Imogene  Martin,  aren't  going  to 
chase  a  will-o'-the-wisp  any  longer.  We've  wasted  enough 
time  on  this  delusion  of  saving  Ruth  Gardner;  if  she's  to  be 
saved,  she  must  save  herself — and  if  she  will  not  do  that, 
then  the  whole  world  together  is  of  no  avail.  You're  never 
going  to  come  here  again,  or  have  anything  to  do  with  her,  or 
let  her  have  a  part  in  your  life.  Nor  am  I.  She  walks  out 
of  our  book,  and  we  draw  a  pen  across  the  bottom  of  the 
page." 

Imogene  had  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  during  his 
terrible  denunciation  and  was  weeping  softly.  She  knew 
it  was  true.  She  knew  that  Ruth  had  gone  out  of  her  life, 
for  such  baseness  as  her  one-time  friend  had  shown  was  not 
to  be  forgiven. 

238 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"You're  right — I  can't  go  on  here  longer,"  she  sobbed. 
"I'm  sick,  I'm  really  sick.  I've  been  barely  crawling  about 
for  the  last  two  days.  And  she  knew  it  and  left  me !  Oh, 
Ruth,  Ruth!" 

"And  would  have  left  you,  storm  or  no  storm,  and 
whether  I  came  or  not!  In  order  to  be  alone  with  Gret- 
zinger!"  Her  heart-breaking  sobs  went  on.  "Don't 
weep,  Imogene.  Put  her  out  of  your  mind."  He  gently 
placed  an  arm  about  her  shoulders.  "  Come,  I  will  take  you 
to  Louise." 

That  she  had  been  "crawling  about  the  last  two  days" 
was  apparent  when  she  attempted  to  rise.  Her  strength 
suddenly  vanished,  her  knees  gave  way.  Bryant  secured 
her  coat  and  cap,  wrapped  her  in  blankets  from  the  bed,  and 
carried  her  out  to  the  car.  Then  he  put  out  her  lamp  and 
locked  the  door. 

And  that  turning  of  the  lock,  Lee  felt,  terminated  a 
painful  chapter  of  his  life. 


239 


CHAPTER    XXVH 

As  by  the  girls'  cabins,  so  before  the  Graham  house,  Lee 
perceived  a  motor  car.  He  brought  his  own  machine  to  a 
stop  near  it  and  cut  off  his  engine.  At  the  same  instant 
the  door  opened  in  the  house,  where  by  the  light  shining 
through  the  portal  he  saw  Louise's  and  Charlie  Menocal's 
figures.  Menocal  stepped  forth. 

"You  will  please  go  now,"  Louise  was  saying.  "When 
you  telephoned  I  told  you  then  that  I  shouldn't  go  with 
you,  or  go  to  the  dance  at  all." 

Bryant  had  alighted  and  was  arranging  the  blankets 
about  Imogene.  Charlie's  voice  spoke,  rather  truculently: 

"I  told  you  I  was  coming  for  you,  didn't  I?  Now  see 
what  a  position  that  leaves  me  in!  People  think  you're 
coming.  I  promised  to  bring  you." 

' '  Then  you  were  too  presumptuous,  "Louise  said.  ' '  Now 
go.  You're  only  making  a  bad  matter  worse." 

"See  here,  Louise " 

"You  had  my  refusal  and  I've  repeated  it  a  dozen  times," 
she  interrupted,  indignantly.  "Must  I  shut  the  door  in 
your  face  to  silence  you?  And  here's  another  car.  Have 
some  regard  for  my  personal  feelings,  sir." 

Lee  by  now  had  lifted  Imogene  into  his  arms  and  started 
toward  the  speakers. 

"Be  a  good  sport,  Louise,"  Menocal  pursued,  in  a  tone 

240 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

intended  to  be  wheedling.  "Run  upstairs  and  put  on  a 
party  dress  while  I  wait  for  you.  You  don't  understand 
how  much  I  want  you  to  come  along  to  this  dance."  His 
words  were  a  little  thick  and  stumbling. 

"Hush!  Don't  you  see  someone  has  come?  You've 
been  drinking;  and  you're  sickening  to  me." 

"I  don't  care  if  someone  is  there!  Let  'em  hear,  Louise. 
Let  all  the  world  hear,  let  your  father  hear,  let  anybody 
hear!  Because  I  love  you,  and  so  you  must  come  to  the 
dance."  Suddenly  his  tone  changed  to  an  angry  hiss. 
"You've  been  treating  me  like  a  cur,  refusing  to  see  me  or 
go  with  me,  and  not  letting  me  come  here.  I  came  to- 
night! I've  stood  for  enough  from  you;  you  can't  play  me 
for  a  fool  any  longer.  And  you're  going  to  marry  me,  too." 

Bryant  perceived  by  the  lamplight  of  the  doorway  that 
the  fellow  had  snatched  her  hand,  that  the  two  were  strug- 
gling. Burdened  with  Imogene  as  he  was,  Lee  was  helpless 
to  enterfere.  But  he  went  hastily  up  the  steps  toward 
them.  Louise  tugged  herself  free. 

"Oh,  you  contemptible  creature!"  she  cried,  in  a  voice  of 
quivering  passion.  "It's  only  because  you  know  father  is 
out  caring  for  stock  that  you  dare  stay  here  to  insult  me." 
Then  looking  past  Menocal,  she  exclaimed,  "Who  is  that?" 

"I,  Bryant,"  said  Lee.  "With  Imogene.  She's  ill,  she 
needs  to  be  put  to  bed.  There  was  no  time  to  ask  your  per- 
mission to  bring  her,  but  I  knew— 

"Of  course!  If  this  beast  will  stop  making  a  scene  and 
go!" 

Charlie  Menocal  was  pulling  on  his  fur  cap. 

"So  here's  our  swell-headed  crook  of  an  engineer  butting 

241 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

in  again,"  he  sneered.  "You  better  be  hunting  up  your 
own  chicken,  or  Gretzinger  will  have  her.  Who  y'  say  you 
got  there?" 

"Stand  aside!" 

Bryant's  voice  struck  the  other  like  the  lash  of  a  whip, 
and  the  half-drunken  youth  instinctively  fell  back  a  pace,  so 
that  Lee  could  pass  with  his  charge  into  the  house.  But 
as  Louise  was  about  to  follow  Menocal  seized  her  arm. 

"  Girlie,  you're  not  going  to  throw  me  down?  You'll  be 
good  to  me  and  come " 

Louise  shook  off  his  hand,  darted  through  the  doorway, 
and  quickly  closing  the  door  turned  the  key  in  the  lock. 
Then  still  grasping  the  door-knob  she  leaned  with  her  head 
against  the  panels,  face  white,  lips  trembling,  and  her  breast 
rising  and  falling  stormily. 

"Oh,  Lee!  For  you  to  be  forced  to  see  and  hear  that!" 
she  said,  in  a  tone  of  anguish. 

"I  think  nothing  of  it;  you  could  not  avoid  him." 

After  a  moment  she  recovered  herself  and  said,  "Wait 
until  I  call  Rosita." 

When  she  returned  with  the  Mexican  girl,  she  conducted 
Bryant  to  an  upper  chamber  where  he  placed  Imogene  upon 
a  bed,  pressed  the  latter's  hand  assuringly,  and  then  left  her 
in  charge  of  the  other  two  while  he  went  below  to  telephone 
to  her  uncle.  McDonnell  had  already  set  out  for  Sarita 
Creek,  his  wife  informed  Lee.  He  had  started  about  half  an 
hour  before.  Bryant  went  out  of  the  house  and  entering 
his  car  drove  down  the  lane  to  the  main  road,  where  he 
stopped. 

Soon  far  away  in  the  south  there  was  a  flash  of  light, 

242 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

repeated  at  intervals,  until  at  length  it  grew  into  a  steady, 
powerful  glare  that  threw  his  own  machine  into  strong 
relief,  that  dazzled  and  blinded  him.  Finally  the  other  car 
stopped  near  by. 

"What's  the  trouble,  Jack?"  McDonnell's  voice  came, 
addressed  to  his  chauffeur. 

Bryant  went  forward  to  the  banker,  who  was  leaning  out 
of  the  limousine.  He  gave  the  information  that  neither  of 
the  girls  was  at  Sarita  Creek  and  explained  that  Imogene 
was  at  the  Graham  house,  comfortable  though  ill. 

"She's  too  sick  to  be  removed  and  will  probably  need  a 
nurse  for  a  time,"  he  concluded.  "I  brought  her  here  as 
soon  as  I  learned  her  condition.  Miss  Graham  put  her  to 
bed." 

"All  right;  I'll  run  in  and  see  her.  Much  obliged  to  you, 
Bryant,"  was  the  answer.  Then  in  a  vexed  strain  he  went 
on,  "What  I  expected  to  happen  has  happened.  Advice, 
pleadings,  commands  haven't  prevented  her  from  following 
out  this  crazy  affair.  You  may  not  believe  it,  but  she's  as 
stubborn  as  a  mule  when  she  wants  to  be.  My  wife  has 
been  almost  distracted  all  winter.  Well,  I'll  send  up  a 
doctor  and  a  nurse  both  as  soon  as  I  return  to  Kennard,  if 
there's  time  before  this  storm.  Still  at  work?  " 

"  Still  digging.    Will  keep  at  it  till  the  last  minute." 

"  Supposed  you  would.    That's  the  lane  there,  isn't  it?  " 

Next  minute  the  big  car  had  passed  Lee's  and  was  mov- 
ing up  the  roadway  between  the  rows  of  cottonwoods  to- 
ward the  house.  But  Bryant  did  not  at  once  start  for 
camp.  His  mind  was  busy  with  pictures — pictures  of  the 
two  girls  as  he  first  had  seen  them  at  Perro  Creek,  and  at 

243 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

their  cabins  afterward,  and  finally  to-night:  Imogene,  weak 
and  racked  by  a  cough  and  huddling  in  a  quilt  beside  her 
sheet-iron  stove,  and  Ruth  in  her  own  cabin,  standing  in 
the  lamplight  in  her  pink  party  dress  with  round  arms  and 
throat  showing  through  its  filmy  gauze,  unconcerned  and 
intent  upon  her  own  ends. 

At  last  he  glanced  up  at  the  impenetrable  sky.  Some- 
thing soft  and  wet  had  floated  against  his  cheek.  Then  he 
saw  here  and  there  in  the  funnel  of  light  projected  by  his 
car  lamps  what  looked  like  solitary  bits  of  white  down 
sinking  through  the  radiance.  Snow ! 


244 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

The  first  flakes  were  but  the  precursors  of  a  heavy  fall  of 
snow  that  almost  immediately  began,  soundless,  without 
wind,  filling  the  air  and  whitening  the  earth,  and  that  was 
still  continuing  unabated  two  hours  later.  It  mantled  the 
shoulders  of  the  workmen  and  the  withers  of  the  horses;  it 
clogged  the  wheels  of  the  fresnos  so  that  dirt  was  moved 
with  ever-increasing  difficulty;  it  veiled  the  flaring  gasolene 
torches  and  choked  the  night.  Where  a  plow  ran  or  a 
scraper  scooped  earth,  snow  speedily  obliterated  the  mark, 
and  with  the  passing  of  time  both  men  and  animals  found 
it  necessary  to  struggle  more  and  more  desperately  in  the 
dirt  cut  against  mud  and  snow  and  gloom. 

Carrigan  contracted  his  working  line,  placing  the  tor- 
ches at  shorter  intervals  and  keeping  the  scrapers  in  close 
succession.  The  foremen  informed  him  frequently  that 
the  men  were  growing  exhausted  and  rebellious,  but  he 
ordered  them  to  hold  the  crews  at  the  task.  He  and  Bryant 
moved  to  and  fro  constantly,  giving  encouragement  or 
lending  a  hand  to  help  start  a  stalled  fresno.  By  sheer 
power  of  their  wills  they  were  combatting  the  snow,  forcing 
the  work  ahead,  deepening  the  stretch  of  excavation  that  had 
been  opened  that  afternoon;  by  iron  determination  they  were 
wrenching  out  the  last  spadeful  of  earth  possible  and  exacting 
the  final  ounce  of  man  power  before  the  snow  had  its  way. 

245 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

The  strange  warmth  continued.  The  temperature  was 
not  even  down  to  freezing  and  the  men,  muddied  and  wet  to 
the  knees,  dripped  with  perspiration,  while  the  horses' 
flanks  were  soaked  with  both  sweat  and  melted  snow.  It 
was  difficult  to  breathe,  what  with  the  heavy,  oppressive  air 
and  what  with  the  fall  of  suffocating  snow,  constantly 
growing  thicker.  Horses  slipped  and  went  down,  but  were 
raised  again;  fresnos  were  mired,  but  freed  once  more;  men 
gave  out  and  were  sent  to  their  camp.  And  the  fight  kept 
on. 

But  about  eleven  o'clock  Bryant  felt  a  cool  puff  of  air  on 
his  cheeks,  light  and  of  brief  duration.  It  was  followed  by  a 
second,  this  time  quicker  and  stronger,  blowing  from  the 
northwest  and  sending  the  snow  a-scurry  in  a  slanting  fog 
of  flakes  past  the  flames  of  the  torches.  He  studied  this 
change  for  a  moment,  then  sought  out  Carrigan. 

"Time  to  make  a  break  for  cover,"  he  announced. 
"Wind  is  coming  and  the  devil  will  be  to  pay  when  once  it 
picks  up  all  this  loose  snow." 

"Well,  we're  about  at  a  standstill,  anyway,"  was  the  reply. 
"I'll  have  the  crews  draw  the  scrapers  and  plows  off  at  one 
side  where  we  can  get  at  them.  I  had  a  spare  horse  tent 
put  at  the  disposal  of  the  Mexicans,  and  have  had  men  in 
both  camps  piling  baled  hay  all  evening  around  the  big  tents 
for  windbreaks.  We'll  issue  extra  blankets  and  crowd  the 
crews  into  the  shacks  and  mess  quarters  where  there  are 
stoves." 

"What  about  water  if  our  pipe  freezes?  " 

"Then  the  horses  will  eat  snow  like  the  range  ponies,  I 
guess — and  the  rest  of  us,  too." 

246 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

At  that  he  went  off  to  order  the  work  stopped,  as  did 
Bryant.  For  some  time  the  wind  blew  only  in  those  fit- 
ful puffs  Lee  had  noted  or  died  down  entirely  for  short 
periods;  and  of  this  fact  the  night  shift  took  advantage  to 
assemble  the  fresnos  and  plows  beside  the  canal  and  to 
drive  their  horses  to  shelter.  The  crews  of  the  north  camp, 
being  fewer,  got  away  first;  and  thither  Bryant  plowed 
through  the  snow  with  them  to  see  all  made  safe.  When  he 
returned,  Carrigan  was  just  herding  the  last  man  and  team 
toward  the  main  camp.  Together  the  contractor  and  the 
engineer  extinguished  the  torches,  then  made  their  way, 
carrying  a  flare  with  them,  toward  the  glow  showing  at  the 
edge  of  the  camp,  where  an  oil-soaked  bale  of  hay  burned  as 
a  guide.  At  their  backs  the  wind  and  snow  blew  with 
gradually  increasing  strength. 

They  made  the  rounds  of  the  horse  tents  packed  with 
animals,  the  mess  tents  packed  with  workmen — with  those 
men  only  come  and  those  newly  aroused  from  sleep  and 
gathered  here — of  the  shacks,  the  hospital,  the  engineers' 
headquarters  and  the  big  commissary  tent,  all  crowded 
with  white  men  and  Mexicans,  steaming  with  moisture, 
smoking  cigarettes  and  pipes,  giving  off  a  rank  smell  of  clay 
and  human  bodies  and  wet  clothes  and  horses,  who  talked 
and  laughed  and  waited  restlessly.  The  pair  waded 
around  examining  guy-ropes,  stakes,  the  protective  walls 
raised  of  hay  bales.  They  took  advantage  of  a  sudden 
dropping  of  the  wind  to  go  among  the  small  tents,  thrusting 
their  flares  within  each  and  having  a  look,  to  make  certain 
no  sleeper  of  the  day  shift  had  been  overlooked.  Then  at 
last  they  stumbled  up  the  street  to  Bryant's  shack. 

247 


The  wind  now  had  utterly  died  away.  The  snow  had 
resumed  its  thick,  silent  fall  straight  to  earth.  Carrigan 
was  kicking  his  boots  clean  against  the  door-sill  when  Lee 
exclaimed,  "Listen  to  that,  Pat!" 

Carrigan  wiped  the  moisture  from  his  ears  and  barkened. 

"That's  the  Limited  coming,  and  making  no  stops,"  he 
remarked.  "Get  in!" 

They  entered  the  little  building.  The  office  contained 
the  engineering  staff  and  several  others.  Tobacco  smoke 
lay  thick  in  the  room. 

Outside,  the  faint  whining  sound  was  growing  steadily  in 
volume  until  at  last  it  deepened  into  a  roar  very  like  that  of 
an  approaching  express  train,  as  Pat  had  suggested.  Fol- 
lowed a  smart  blow  on  the  shack.  Then  it  reeled  and  the 
night  was  filled  with  a  howling  tumult  that  deafened  the 
men  inside;  the  blizzard  had  burst  upon  the  mesa. 
Through  the  windows  one  could  see  nothing,  for  the  air  had 
become  a  black  maelstrom  of  whirling  snow  and  darkness 
where  a  choked  roar  persisted  as  steadily  as  the  bass  thunder 
of  Niagara.  The  warmth  had  vanished;  a  cutting  cold,  as 
if  striking  direct  from  arctic  ice,  minute  by  minute  drove  the 
mercury  in  the  thermometer  on  Bryant's  wall  downward 
with  unbelievable  swiftness.  If  anything,  the  fury  of  the 
storm  seemed  to  increase  as  time  passed,  swelling  to  such 
terrible  violence  that  one  imagined  nothing  could  withstand 
its  force,  its  mad  blasts,  its  deadliness. 

"Those  mess  tents  and  horse  tents,"  Lee  said  to  Car- 
rigan, anxiously.  . 

"They're  safer  under  their  lee  of  hay  than  is  this  little 
paper  box  we're  sitting  in,"  the  contractor  replied.  "I've 

248 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

been  through  blizzards  before,  and  know  how  to  meet 
them." 

From  by  the  stove  one  of  the  engineers  spoke. 

"But  we'll  never  see  some  of  those  little  tents  any 
more.  There  are  several  travelling  toward  Mexico  by 
now." 

"And  my  new  flannel  shirt!"  cried  another,  suddenly. 
"Washed  it  this  noon  and  hung  it  out  on  a  line  and  forgot 
all  about  it.  Oh,  Lord,  where  is  it  now?  " 

"  Good-bye,  little  shirt,  we'll  never  see  you  more ! "  said  the 
first,  sentimentally.  "You'll  be  hanging  on  the  Equator  by 
morning." 

"While  we're  left  here  in  the  drifts,"  said  a  third.  "Oh, 
the  lovely,  big,  white  drifts  there'll  be  to-morrow! " 

Toward  one  o'clock  the  first  furious  rush  of  the  storm 
had  passed  and  it  had  settled  into  a  fifty-mile-an-hour-' 
wind,  bitterly  cold,  with  snow  that  drove  against  the 
building  in  fine  particles.  Freezing  air  never  ceased  to 
enter  the  thin  walls  of  boards  and  tar  paper.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  keep  the  cast-iron  stove  red-hot  to  secure  anything 
like  comfort. 

And  to  this  dreadful  cold  and  snow,  thought  Lee,  Imogene 
would  have  been  left  deliberately  by  Ruth  Gardner  and 
Gretzinger! 

Carrigan  bade  the  others  roll  up  in  their  blankets  and  get 
what  sleep  they  could  while  he  and  Bryant  tended  the  fire. 
Lee  saw  that  Dave  was  warm  and  well-wrapped.  The  men, 
worn  out  by  prolonged  exertions,  made  themselves  beds  on 
the  floor  or  stretched  themselves  out  on  their  seats,  drew 
their  coverings  closer,  closed  their  eyes,  slept. 

249 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

The  contractor  and  the  engineer,  together  before  the  fire, 
continued  to  talk  in  low  tones. 

"Haven't  told  you  yet,"  said  Pat,  presently,  "but  we 
picked  up  that  Mexican  this  evening  who  was  trying  to  start 
a  drunk  Christmas  Eve.  It  was  while  you  were  at  Sarita 
Creek.  Saurez  told  me  he  had  sneaked  into  camp  and 
meant  mischief.  Some  of  us  caught  him  behind  the  com- 
missary tent  with  a  can  of  oil,  just  ready  to  fire  the  camp." 

"A  fine  night  for  us  all  to  have  been  left  without  shelter," 
Lee  remarked.  "Where  is  he?" 

"In  the  hospital  tied  up,  with  a  trusty  man  to  watch  him. 
Here's  what  I  found  on  him.  Look  inside."  And  Pat 
handed  over  a  dirty  leather  bag  with  a  long  string.  "  Found 
this  around  his  neck." 

Lee  extracted  four  pieces  of  paper  from  the  sack — all 
checks  drawn  to  the  order  of  F.  Alvarez.  Besides  these 
there  were  two  twenty-dollar  gold  pieces,  three  rings,  and 
several  unset  turquoises. 

"Well,  we  can  make  use  of  these  checks,"  he  said,  after 
thought.  "I'll  talk  to  the  fellow  to-morrow."  He  restored 
the  miscellaneous  collection  of  property  to  the  sack. 

On  the  panes  of  the  small  windows  the  snow  beat  and  the 
wind  hammered.  Carrigan  stuffed  the  stove  with  pine 
knots.  Afterward  he  refilled  his  pipe,  cast  a  sharp  glance 
about  at  the  sleeping  occupants  of  the  room,  and  said: 

"You've  got  what  you  need  now  to  mix  medicine  with 
the  banker."  He  confirmed  his  words  with  several  satisfied 
nods. 

"Yes,"  said  Bryant. 

Carrigan  proceeded  to  meditate. 

250 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Awhile  back  I  sent  for  some  more  dynamite,"  he  stated, 
breaking  the  silence.  "Didn't  say  anything  to  you  about  it 
at  the  time.  It  was  there  in  the  commissary  tent  under  a 
stack  of  cases  of  peaches  and  bags  of  coffee.  If  this  Alvarez 
had  got  his  oil  on  that  canvas  and  a  fire  going,  there  sure 
would  have  been  some  fire-works.  You  would  have  had  a 
reservoir  blown  right  in  the  middle  of  your  project,  I'm 
thinking." 

"What  in  the  name  of  heaven  do  you  want  with  dyna- 
mite!" 

"Well,  my  boy,  there's  a  lot  of  ground  that  can't  be  dug, 
but  I  never  saw  any  that  nitro  wouldn't  move.  What  I 
got  is  dirt-blowing  dynamite,  the  kind  powder  companies 
sell  for  making  drainage  ditches  and  blowing  stumps  and  so 
on.  I  didn't  know  whether  I  should  have  to  use  it,  but 
I  always  like  to  have  a  trick  up  my  sleeve.  Powder  is 
ordinarily  too  expensive  to  employ  when  fresnos  can  work, 
yet  it's  just  the  thing  in  a  pinch.  We're  in  an  emergency 
now.  If  it  should  set  in  and  snow  right  along,  with  one 
storm  on  top  of  another,  as  may  happen  after  so  long  a  mild 
season,  powder  even  may  not  help  us  out.  These  last  eight 
hundred  yards  are  going  to  make  us  weep  before  we're 
through,  I'm  guessing.  But  just  the  same,  I'm  counting  on 
this  dynamite.  It  can't  blow  like  this  forever,  and  the 
minute  it  quits  we'll  grab  hold." 

Lee  twisted  about  to  look  at  a  window.  The  particles 
of  snow  were  biting  at  the  glass  relentlessly,  while  the  howl 
of  the  gale  told  only  too  plainly  how  the  drifts  were  being 
heaped  on  the  darkmesa. 

"We'll  finish  this  ditch  on  time  even  if  hell  freezes  over," 

251 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

he  said,  slowly.     "I'm  not  going  to  be  beaten  at  this  late 
day." 

He  continued  to  sit  gazing  at  the  frosted  panes  and 
barkening  to  the  roaring  blasts.  On  the  floor  and  in  the 
chairs  the  blanketed  men  slept  heavily.  Pat  fed  the  fire 
anew.  But  through  the  cracks  of  the  walls  the  cold  sifted 
more  and  more  intense,  while  along  the  edges  of  the  boards 
there  formed  thick  fringes  of  glistening  frost. 


252 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

For  four  days  the  bitter  cold  and  fierce  wind  held  the 
camps  in  thrall,  then  the  latter  blew  itself  out.  The  cold, 
however,  still  endured  though  the  sun  shone.  When  one 
looked  forth  from  camp,  all  that  could  be  seen  was  a  snow- 
bound earth;  mesa  and  mountains  were  as  white  and  silent 
as  some  polar  region;  nothing  moved;  nothing  seemed  to  live 
out  yonder.  It  was  like  a  dazzling,  frigid,  extinct  world. 

The  main  mesa  road  was  blocked  and  telephone  wires 
were  down.  What  went  on  outside  the  limits  of  the  camp's 
snow-drifted  horizon  its  dwellers  knew  not — nor  for  the  mo- 
ment cared.  Work  was  the  only  thought.  With  hastily 
constructed  snow-plows  roads  had  been  broken  among  the 
tents  and  shacks  as  soon  as  the  weather  allowed,  and  after- 
ward broad  paths  made  to  the  working  ground.  The 
section  of  undug  canal  was  now  scraped  bare.  There, 
sheltered  by  tents  and  warmed  by  sagebrush  fires,  men  bored 
in  the  iron-like  earth  powder-holes  in  rows  that  exactly 
aligned  the  canal.  On  the  morning  of  the  fifth  day  a  first 
stretch  of  fifty  yards  was  blown  out,  whereupon  teams  and 
scrapers  were  rushed  into  the  ragged  cavity  to  deepen  and 
clear  the  ditch  before  the  soil  froze  anew.  This  was  at  the 
north  end.  In  the  afternoon  one  hundred  yards  at  the 
south  end  went  up  in  a  blast  and  crews  from  the  main  camp 
fell  upon  this  area. 

253 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

That  night  the  sky  clouded  over  again.  All  the  next 
day  snow  came  down  steadily.  The  workmen  played  cards 
in  the  mess  tents  and  waited.  Carrigan  busied  himself  at 
accounts  and  waited.  Bryant  waited,  with  impatience  and 
anxiety  gnawing  at  his  heart.  There  were  six  hundred 
yards  and  more  unexcavated,  and  but  three  days  of  his  time 
remained. 

The  snow  ceased  at  nightfall  and  work  was  instantly 
resumed  by  aid  of  the  torches ;  again  the  desperate  scraping 
of  snow,  bundled  men  at  fires  and  sheltered  by  windbreaks, 
the  drilling  of  holes  in  the  frozen  ground,  the  reliefs  every 
two  hours,  the  thawing  of  nipped  fingers  and  toes  and  noses. 
All  night  hot  food  and  boiling  coffee  were  served  at  intervals 
to  the  cold  and  hungry  labourers.  At  nine  o'clock  next 
morning  two  hundred  yards  of  dirt  went  spraying  into  the 
air,  with  the  subsequent  struggle  in  the  long  hole:  fresnos 
bearing  forth  what  earth  was  loose  and  what  the  plows 
broke  out;  the  horses,blinded  by  the  glare  of  snow,  staggering 
forward  under  curse  and  lash;  the  men  toiling  in  a  sort  of 
grim  fury.  A  maximum  of  effort  finished  one  hundred  and 
fifty  yards  more  by  eleven  o'clock.  Carrigan  ordered  all 
work  to  stop  until  nine  next  morning. 

"The  men  are  'all  in'/'  he  told  Lee.  "We'll  crack  this 
last  nut  to-morrow." 

"  But  what  if  it  sets  in  to  snow?  More  than  two  hundred 
and  fifty  yards  left  to  do,  and  only  to-morrow  and  the  day 
after  to  work." 

"We'll  have  to  risk  it." 

"Will  your  powder  hold  out?" 

"Yes."  He  regarded  Bryant  keenly.     "Say,  what  you 

254 


need  isn't  information  but  sleep.  You  worked  all  day 
yesterday,  and  all  last  night,  and  to-day  again,  and  here  it  is 
going  on  midnight.  I'm  going  to  tell  you  the  schedule  for 
to-morrow  to  calm  your  mind,  then  you  roll  into  your  blan- 
kets. At  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  all  hands  except  the 
cooks  go  at  the  drills  and  stay  by  them  till  the  stretch  is 
holed.  Whenever  that's  done,  which  should  be  about 
evening,  we  shoot  the  chunk.  And  after  that  we  hit  the 
bottom  with  every  scraper  and  fresno  and  horse  and  man, 
with  the  cooks  fighting  the  coffee-boilers,  and  never  come 
out  of  the  ditch  till  the  last  lump  of  dirt  is  moved.  That's 
the  programme.  I  figure  it  will  be  about  midnight  when  the 
last  card's  turned,  maybe  an  hour  or  so  after.  I  promised 
the  men  double  wages  and  a  box  of  cigars  apiece  out  of  the 
store  and  a  few  other  things  perhaps — I  don't  remember. 
So  you  get  your  sleep,  for  there's  a  big  day  ahead  to-morrow. 
That  dirt  all  goes  out  before  you'll  have  another  chance  to 
hit  the  hay." 

Bryant  arose  next  morning  at  seven.  The  sky  was  over- 
cast and  the  thermometer  was  sixteen  below  zero  when  he 
examined  it.  Across  the  snow  he  could  see  the  north  camp 
stirring  to  life,  awakening  in  the  frosty,  pallid  light  of  dawn. 
Stretching  thither  ran  uneven  snowy  ridges,  save  at  one  place 
where  they  lay  bare  and  brown — the  banks  of  the  canal. 
When  the  small  interval  still  undug  was  moved,  the  ditch 
would  be  finished  from  river  to  ranch,  from  the  Pinas  down 
to  Perro.  And  this  was  to  be  the  last  day  of.  toil!  To-day 
the  camps  were  to  hurl  themselves  at  that  short  remaining 
strip  of  earth  and  tear  it  out;  the  furrow  so  long  pressed 
ahead  through  the  iron  ground  was  to  be  brought  to  an  end; 

255 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

the  enemy,  frost,  was  to  be  conquered  at  last.  When  he 
thought  of  the  inexorable  labour  done  under  heart-breaking 
conditions,  in  spite  of  cold  and  wind  and  snow,  and  with 
sufferings  and  deprivations  little  considered.  Bryant  felt 
for  the  workmen,  rough  though  they  were,  a  strong  affection. 
They  had  done  the  bitter  work. 

"Out  goes  the  chunk  to-day,"  was  Pat's  greeting  that 
morning. 

A  spirit  of  eagerness,  almost  of  enthusiasm,  pervaded 
the  crews  that  first  went  forth  hi  the  cold  to  work  at  the 
drills.  It  was  the  final  attack,  and  they  went  from  their 
steaming  breakfast  with  jests  and  laughter  that  rang  back 
over  the  snow.  Sixteen  below  zero,  and  they  laughed! 
Bryant  had  a  sudden  conviction  that  nothing  could  stop 
such  men — neither  weather,  nor  elements,  nor  fate  itself. 
They  were  heroes  not  to  be  daunted.  They  swung  the 
hammer  of  Thor  against  the  earth  and  were  worthy  of  an 
epic. 

Toward  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  of  that  day  Carrigan 
said  to  the  engineer: 

"We're  making  better  time  than  I  calculated.  The  holes 
will  all  be  drilled  by  five  o'clock;  we're  loading  them  as 
they're  done  and  we'll  shoot  at  five-thirty." 

"What  about  supper?" 

"Supper  at  five.  Then  the  men  will  be  back  and  ready 
to  jump  in  the  ditch  when  the  shot's  fired." 

"And  be  done  twenty-four  hours  before  the  hour  set  by 
the  Land  and  Water  Board,"  said  Lee. 

"That's  cutting  it  fine  enough  as  it  is.  Who's  that  wav- 
ing yonder  toward  camp?"  And  Carrigan  pointed  a 

256 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

mittened  hand  at  a  figure  swinging  an  arm  and  shouting 
Bryant's  name. 

The  engineer  stared  for  a  time. 

"  Charlie  Menocal,"  he  said,  finally.  "  Morgan — Morgan, 
come  here!"  he  called.  And  as  Morgan  came  to  join  him, 
Lee  addressed  Pat,  "I'll  just  run  over  to  Bartolo  with  this 
young  scoundrel.  The  road's  open  and  I'll  be  back  by 
dark.  Want  Morgan  to  come  along  to  look  after  him  and 
Alvarez,  the  man  you  caught." 

"  Better  start  back  in  plenty  of  time.  The  sky's  thicken- 
ing again.  More  snow  in  sight,  Lee." 

"I  shall." 

"You  might  invite  old  man  Menocal  to  return  with  you," 
Pat  remarked,  with  a  grin,  "  and  see  us  put  the  kibosh  on  his 
dream  of  owning  the  Pinas  River.  What  are  you  going  to 
do  with  this  boy  of  his?  Send  him  over  the  road?  " 

"I  haven't  decided  yet." 

"That's  where  he  ought  to  go,  after  trying  to  burn  us  out 
the  night  of  the  blizzard."  He  turned  away  to  the  work. 

"You're  not  to  let  this  fellow  over  there  waiting  for  us  get 
away,  Morgan,"  Lee  stated. 

"I'll  freeze  on  to  him." 

They  went  along  the  snowy  path  toward  camp,  coming 
up  with  Menocal,  who  waited  until  they  arrived  and  then 
accompanied  them  toward  Bryant's  office. 

"Have  a  letter  for  you  from  Ruth,"  he  said.  "Had  a 
terrible  time  getting  up  from  Kennard.  Road  isn't  half 
opened,  but  I  found  a  man  to  drive  me  home.  Promised 
Ruth  to  deliver  this  to  you." 

He  drew  the  letter  from  an  inner  pocket  and  handed  it  to 

257 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

the  engineer,  who  glanced  at  the  writing  on  the  envelope, 
his  own  name,  and  shoved  the  epistle  into  his  glove.  When 
they  gained  camp,  Lee  said : 

"Morgan  and  I  are  going  to  Bartolo  with  you,  and  also  a 
friend  of  yours  called  Alvarez.  We  nabbed  him  as  he  was 
trying  to  burn  our  camp  about  two  hours  before  the  blizzard. 
Take  this  man  to  headquarters,  Morgan,  and  keep  him  till 
I  come  over." 

Menocal's  face  became  livid  with  anger  and  alarm. 

"Let  me  go,  damn  you!"  he  shouted,  shrilly. 

Bryant  waved  a  hand  towards  the  engineers'  shack  and 
thither  Charlie  was  propelled,  cursing  and  struggling,  in 
Morgan's  firm  grasp.  Entering  his  office,  Lee  closed  the 
door,  walked  to  the  stove,  and  standing  there  produced  the 
letter.  It  was  the  first  and  only  missive  he  had  ever  re- 
ceived from  Ruth.  He  gazed  at  the  envelope  and  the 
scrawled  writing  on  it  with  an  impression  of  strangeness,  but 
this  gave  way  to  a  curiosity  as  to  the  contents.  He  had  a 
strong  suspicion  of  the  letter's  purport.  Ruth  would  have 
reviewed  her  conduct  that  night  at  Sarita  Creek,  and,  with 
her  instinctive  cunning,  perceived  it  would  alienate  Lee. 
The  message  doubtless  carried  an  adroit  explanation  and 
excuse,  ending  up  with  numerous  declarations  of 'her  affec- 
tion and  hypocritical  assertions  of  her  anxiety  on  his  ac- 
count. Disgust  overwhelmed  him.  He  was  minded  to 
cast  the  thing  into  the  stove  unread.  At  last,  however, 
muttering  to  himself,  he  thrust  a  forefinger  under  the  flap 
and  ripped  the  envelope  open.  A  newspaper  clipping  that 
had  been  enclosed  in  the  letter  dropped  to  the  floor.  He 
read: 

258 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

DEAR  LEE: 

After  thinking  the  matter  over  very  carefully,  I've  decided  to 
release  you  from  our  engagement.  If  this  pains  you,  as  I  fear  it 
will,  I'm  extremely  sorry,  but  I've  discovered  that  we're  not 
temperamentally  suited  to  each  other.  You've  failed,  besides, 
so  I  understand,  which  further  convinces  me  of  that.  And  in 
addition,  I've  learned  of  late  that  I  love  another,  who  loves  me. 
Therefore  it's  much  better  that  I  take  this  step,  much  better  and 
much  wiser — don't  you  think  so?  However,  Lee,  I  shall  always 
be  your  friend. 

It  may  interest  you  to  know  that  this  evening  Mr.  Gretzinger 
and  I  are  to  be  married.  Privately,  with  only  a  few  close  friends. 
We  tlepart  immediately  after  the  ceremony  for  New  York.  Mr. 
Menocal  is  to  pack  my  things  at  Sarita  Creek,  so  you  need  not 
bother  about  them.  I  understand  Imogene  is  visiting  at  the 
Graham  ranch;  I'm  dropping  her  a  note  there  telling  her  the 
news. 

With  best  wishes, 
RUTH. 

Bryant  Hf ted  from  the  floor  and  read  the  clipping.  It  was 
a  short  announcement,  evidently  from  a  Kennard  paper,  of 
the  prospective  wedding  that  night  of  Miss  Ruth  Gardner,  of 
Sarita  Creek,  and  Mr.  J.  Senton  Gretzinger,  of  New  York. 

When  he  had  read  this,  Lee  gently  tilted  and  shook  the 
envelope.  But  no  diamond  solitaire  dropped  out. 


259 


CHAPTER  XXX 

They  were  waiting  in  the  sheriff's  office  in  the  court  house 
in  Bartolo.  They  were  waiting  for  Mr.  Menocal.  Winship 
had  sent  a  messenger  for  him.  At  one  place  in  the  room, 
handcuffed  and  tied,  sat  the  evil-eyed  Alvarez;  at  another 
sat  Charlie  Menocal,  silent  and  apprehensive  and  with  a 
sickly  pallor  showing  under  his  dusky  skin;  and  between 
them  lounged  Morgan.  The  sheriff  and  Bryant  stood 
across  the  room  conversing  of  the  storm. 

"I  thought  your  goose  was  cooked  when  that  blizzard 
hit  us,"  Winship  was  saying. 

"Froze,  you  mean,"  was  Lee's  srniling  reply.  "I  thought 
so  myself  for  a  while.  We've  hammered  along,  however. 
To-night  the  last  dirt  goes  out." 

"That  was  an  idea  now — powder." 

"  It  was  Carrigan's,  not  mine.  It  saved  us.  The  old  man 
has  forgotten  more  than  I  ever  knew.  Here's  the  banker 
now." 

The  door  swung  open,  admitting  Menocal,  blinking  from 
the  snow's  sheen.  He  bade  the  sheriff  and  the  engineer  good 
day,  glanced  sharply  at  them  and  then  at  the  others.  When 
his  look  encountered  his  son,  his  eyebrows  went  up. 

"So  you're  home  finally,"  he  addressed  him.  "After  two 
weeks'  time ! "  His  regard  moved  about  from  one  to  another 
of  the  trio.  "What  does  this  mean,  Charlie?  Who  is  that 

260 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

iellow  wearing  handcuffs?"  He  paused,  staring  steadily  at 
his  son.  "What  have  you  been  doing  to  bring  you  into 
Winship's  office?"  As  Charlie  continued  to  sit  silent,  he 
turned  to  the  sheriff. 

"I'll  explain,  Mr.  Menocal,  but  what  I  have  to  say  won't 
be  pleasant  hearing  for  you,"  Lee  stated,  at  a  nod  from  Win- 
ship.  "Take  this  chair,  if  you  please." 

The  banker  sat  down,  heavily.  He  sighed,  while  his  fat 
cheeks  shook  with  a  slight  tremble. 

"What  has  he  done?"  he  asked,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  an 
ink-well  on  the  sheriff's  desk. 

Briefly  and  without  temper  Bryant  related  the  circum- 
stance of  seeing  Alvarez  in  Kennard  one  day  during  the 
previous  summer,  when  the  man  appeared  to  be  watching 
him.  Charlie  was  also  in  town  on  that  day.  Alvarez  was 
the  man  who  had  attempted  to  make  the  workmen  drunk  in 
camp  on  Christmas  Eve,  but  he  had  escaped  on  that  oc- 
casion. He  had  stolen  into  camp  again  on  the  afternoon 
preceding  the  blizzard  and  two  hours  after  sundown  had 
been  captured  seeking  to  fire  the  commissary  tent.  When 
made  a  prisoner,  he  had  been  searched.  On  his  person  were 
found  several  checks  for  sums  ranging  from  fifty  to  one 
hundred  dollars.  Bryant  drew  the  leather  sack  from  his 
pocket,  extracted  the  checks,  and  handed  them  to  the  banker. 

"You  see  they  are  given  by  your  son,"  said  he.  "I've 
questioned  this  Alvarez  and  he  has  finally  admitted  that  he 
was  employed  by  Charlie  and  instructed  by  him  what  to  do. 
Your  son,  therefore,  is  the  instigator  of  the  attempted  crime, 
and  Alvarez,  an  ignorant  and  brutal  outlaw  from  Mexico, 
was  merely  his  tool.  I  pass  over  the  matter  of  the  whisky 

261 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

and  the  petty  inconveniences  earlier  caused  me  and  my  men. 
But  here  is  an  act  of  a  different  character,  Mr.  Menocal. 
The  man's  endeavour  to  fire  our  camp,  had  it  been  successful, 
would  perhaps  have  resulted  in  the  death  of  scores  of  men, 
as  the  storm  broke  shortly  after  and  they  would  have  been 
without  shelter." 

Charlie  Menocal  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Before  God,  I  didn't  know  he  would  choose  that 
night!"  he  cried,  passionately.  "I  meant  only  to  stop 
their  work!" 

His  father  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"That  makes  no  difference,  my  son;  you  planned  a  wicked 
deed,"  he  said,  in  a  barely  audible  voice. 

Morgan  pushed  the  young  man  back  upon  his  chair 
and  Bryant  went  on.  As  he  proceeded,  he  had  found  it 
harder  and  harder  to  address  the  parent;  and  his  task  was  no 
easier  now.  The  eyes  of  the  father  had  gone  to  the  slender, 
sagging  figure  of  his  son  and  seemed  to  be  the  eyes  of  an 
expiring  man;  his  plump  cheeks  were  working  under  an  ex- 
cess of  emotion;  then  his  head  went  down  suddenly  as  under 
the  blow  of  a  club. 

"Because  of  the  character  of  the  act,"  Lee  said,  "it  wasn't 
only  a  stroke  at  me  but  at  every  animal  and  man  in  the  en- 
tire south  camp.  I  want  to  make  this  clear  in  order  to 
show  how  black  and  dastardly  the  thing  was.  Whether 
Charlie  understood  or  intended  the  destruction  of  all  the  lives 
and  property  there  is  no  excuse;  it  was  a  deed  that  would 
have  carried  terrible  results  in  its  train.  I  don't  even  let 
my  mind  conceive  them.  All  this  has  followed,  Mr.  Meno- 
cal, from  the  single  fact  that  your  son  disliked  me  in  the 

262 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

beginning.  To  that  may  be  added  an  idea  that  I  was  de- 
priving you  of  something  to  which  I  had  no  right,  namely, 
the  title  to  the  Perro  Creek  canal  appropriation.  And  there, 
I  think,  responsibility  for  his  course  touches  you." 

He  paused  to  gaze  at  the  Mexican,  whose  face  had  become 
drained  of  colour. 

"Mr.  Menocal,  the  water  is  mine,"  he  continued,  "and 
to-night  some  time  it  will  be  mine  beyond  all  dispute,  for 
then  the  ditch  will  be  finished.  So  much  for  that.  Some 
days  ago  we  had  a  talk  that,  I  believe,  led  us  each  to  a  better 
opinion  of  the  other.  I  think  that  as  a  leader  here  in 
Bartolo  and  around  about  you're  a  force  for  good;  you  be- 
lieve in  law,  order,  and  education;  and  I  know,  from  what 
I've  learned,  that  you  carry  many  of  the  people  on  store 
accounts  for  long  periods  when  crops  are  bad  or  when  they 
are  distressed  by  sickness.  I'm  confident  you're  endeavour- 
ing to  elevate  them  so  far  as  possible;  and  I  admit  frankly 
that  I've  modified  very  greatly  my  first  estimation  of  you. 
That  weighs  in  the  scale  against  Charlie's  actions. 

"Then  there's  one  kindness  Charlie  himself  has  done  me, 
though  he  may  not  be  aware  of  the  fact.  I'll  not  say  what 
it  is;  let  it  suffice  that  it  is  the  case.  A  very  great  kindness 
it  was,  indeed !  I  count  that  likewise  in  the  opposite  scale. 
And  then  there  are  other  things  to  consider,  one  among  them 
that  after  all  no  harm  has  come  to  me.  The  enmity  he's 
held  for  me  has  simply  recoiled  upon  his  own  head.  All  he 
has  to  show  for  it  after  months  of  hating  and  contriving  is 
his  position  here  in  this  room  to-day — and  a  dead  dog. 
Surely  it  must  make  plain  to  him  that  his  course  has  been 
not  only  futile  but  foolish." 

263 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

The  engineer  glanced  at  the  young  fellow.  He  sat  in  an 
attitude  of  despair  that  almost  equalled  his  father's. 

"Well,  that  brings  me  to  the  point,"  Bryant  said. 
"You've  been  too  indulgent  with  Charlie,  Mr.  Menocal,  as 
you  once  acknowledged  to  me.  You've  given  him  too  much 
money,  too  much  admiration,  too  much  head,  and  it  has  led 
him  up  against  the  bars  of  the  state  prison.  The  question  is 
whether  or  not  I  shall  open  the  gate  and  push  him  in,  as  at 
first  I  determined  to  do  on  securing  the  proof  in  this  leather 
sack.  If  I  thought  he  would  keep  on  along  his  present  line, 
I  should  say  yes,  merely  as  a  matter  of  public  policy,  but 
I've  had  several  days  to  think  the  thing  over  and  have  come 
to  the  conclusion  he'll  soon  realize  his  folly,  if  he  doesn't 
now.  And  another  restraint  should  be  the  good  name  and 
the  happiness  of  his  father.  I'm  not  vindictive,  Mr.  Meno- 
cal, and  less  on  this  day  than  I've  ever  been.  I  don't  be- 
lieve in  causing  people  misery  merely  for  the  pleasure  of  in- 
flicting it  or  because  I  happen  to  have  the  power.  We  all 
have  enough  to  contend  with,  as  it  is.  I  don't  propose  to 
ruin  your  position  here,  and  end  your  influence,  and  blast 
your  life,  by  sending  your  son  to  the  penitentiary.  That 
would  make  me  no  happier,  and  would  make  a  number  of 
people  infinitely  wretched,  while  perhaps  starting  Charlie  on 
the  road  to  hell.  Very  likely  so.  I  much  prefer  to  see 
everyone  cheerful  and  at  work.  Suppose  we  ship  this  fellow 
yonder  back  to  Mexico — Winship  can  arrange  that — and 
destroy  the  checks,  and  tear  up  this  sheet  of  Charlie's  record, 
so  to  speak.  Only  one  or  two  persons  besides  ourselves 
know  of  the  matter  and  I'll  ask  them  to  forget  it." 

Lee  struck  a  match  and  ignited  the  checks,  holding  them 

264 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

while  they  burned  until  at  last  he  dropped  them  on  the 
floor,  where  they  blazed,  curled  up  in  strips  of  black  ash,  and 
were  no  more.  He  glanced  about  at  the  others.  Winship 
was  picking  his  teeth  with  a  quill  toothpick,  with  his  mind 
apparently  far  away  on  other  matters.  Morgan  stolidly 
chewed  tobacco  and  kept  a  wary  eye  on  the  bandit,  Alvarez. 
Charlie  sat  pale,  limp,  gazing  at  nothing.  The  elder  Meno- 
cal  had  lifted  his  eyes  to  Bryant,  at  whom  he  looked  mistily; 
he  appeared  to  have  aged  astonishingly,  his  cheeks  having 
gone  flabby,  slack,  and  gray,  while  a  slight  tremour  shook 
his  head. 

" That's  all,  I  guess,"  Bryant  said,  briskly.  "We'll  just 
consider  our  relations  established  on  the  same  footing  they 
were  before  this  occurrence." 

He  put  out  a  hand,  smiling.  The  banker  struggled  to  his 
feet  and  clasped  it  in  both  of  his. 

"They  shall  not  be  on  the  same  footing,  but  on  a  better 
one,  Mr.  Bryant,  if  it's  in  my  power  to  make  them  so,"  he 
exclaimed,  in  a  choked  voice. 

"That  suits  me  right  down  to  the  ground,  Mr. 
Menocal." 

The  Mexican  was  silent.  His  lips  parted,  quivered,  and 
shut  again.  His  hold  on  the  engineer's  hand  tightened. 

"I — I  can't  talk  now,  can't  say  what  I  wish  to  say,"  he 
said,  mastered  by  feeling.  "When  I'm  more  myself,  when 

I  can  talk — another  time "  He  ceased,  but  presently 

finished,  "Another  time  I'll  tell  the  gratitude  in  my  heart. 

Now  my  shame  for  my  son  and  for  myself Come, 

Charlie,  take  me  home." 

They  went  out.  Winship  came  to  life  and  crossing  the 

265 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

room  dragged  the  outlaw  Mexican  to  his  feet,  then  pushed 
him  over  the  floor  and  into  the  hall  on  his  way  to  the  cells  in 
the  basement.  Morgan  pulled  on  his  hat.  Bryant 
glanced  at  the  paper  ashes  on  the  floor,  then  did  likewise. 
It  was  time  to  get  back  to  camp. 


266 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

The  first  snowflakes  of  another  storm  were  beginning  to 
flutter  down  by  the  time  the  two  men  reached  camp,  and 
dusk  had  set  in.  On  the  drifted  road  from  Bartolo,  over 
which  but  few  wagons  had  passed,  travel  was  slow  and 
they  had  consumed  an  hour  and  a  half  on  their  return.  The 
torches  were  burning  along  the  canal,  appearing  at  a  dis- 
tance like  winter  fireflies,  but  the  crews  of  workmen  had 
gone  to  supper.  Bryant  and  Morgan,  when  they  drove 
down  the  street  in  camp,  could  hear  them  at  their  meal  in 
the  glowing  mess  tents — a  subdued  hubbub  of  plates  and 
knives  and  voices. 

Half  an  hour  later  they  were  pouring  forth  toward  the 
horse  tents,  while  the  engineers  were  making  their  way  along 
the  torch-lit  path  to  the  stretch  of  undug  canal. 

"We'll  allow  fifteen  minutes  for  them  to  get  the  teams 
out,  then  shoot,"  Carrigan  said  to  Lee,  as  they  moved  along. 
"All  the  shots  are  in  and  double-fused.  Doesn't  appear  to 
be  any  wind  behind  this  snow." 

The  air,  though  cold,  was  still.  The  flakes  were  not  yet 
falling  heavily  and  they  lay  on  the  hard  crust  of  snow  as  light 
as  silk  fluff.  What  might  be  coming  down  in  another  hour 
from  the  darkness  overhead,  however,  could  not  be  fore- 
told, while  if  both  a  gale  and  a  great  fall  of  snow  occurred 
the  labour  of  the  night  would  be  increased  a  hundred-fold. 

267 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Bryant's  anxiety  was  no  longer  on  account  of  the  time 
limit  fixed  by  the  Land  and  Water  Board.  He  knew  that 
since  the  revelations  made  in  the  sheriff's  office  the  claimant 
Rodriguez  would  never  press  his  case,  even  were  the  canal 
never  completed.  But  he  had  the  keen  desire  of  a  tired 
man  to  clean  up  the  job  and  be  done,  and  a  pride  in  keeping 
faith  with  himself  in  accomplishing  what  he  had  sworn  he 
should  do,  build  the  project  in  ninety  days.  He  would 
never  have  it  said  by  any  one  that  he  had  failed  in  that. 
By  Gretzinger,  for  example.  Ruth  in  particular!  She 
believed  that  he  had  already  failed  when  she  wrote  her 
letter. 

By  the  end  of  the  quarter  of  an  hour  prescribed  by  Car- 
rigan  teams  and  workmen  were  coming  along  the  snowy 
road  in  a  long  line.  From  the  north  camp  also  a  string  of 
animals  in  pairs  was  advancing  by  light  of  the  torches.  A 
warning  shout  sounded  from  the  ditch  section.  Men  re- 
treated. Then  a  roaring  boom  burst  upon  the  night,  with 
other  thunderous  reports  following  in  rapid  succession,  un- 
til it  seemed  that  the  mined  earth  cascading  upward  in  the 
darkness  was  the  bombardment  of  scores  of  cannon.  The 
fi.imes  of  the  torches  and  the  falling  snow  tossed  and  whirled 
at  the  percussion  of  air.  Showers  of  clay  rained  upon  the 
earth.  Vibrations  jarred  the  ground. 

Then  the  companies  of  horses  and  men,  fastening  upon 
scrapers,  hastened  into  the  trench.  The  remaining  strip  that 
joined  the  two  sections  of  canal  had  been  blown  out  and  now 
this  was  the  final,  culminating  assault.  When  this  two 
hundred  and  fifty  yards  of  ditch  line  had  been  widened  and 
deepened  to  correspond  to  the  rest,  water  would  flow  of 

268 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

summers  in  a  small  river  from  the  dam  down  to  the  broad 
acres  of  Perro  Creek  ranch. 

Hour  after  hour  the  steady  labour  proceeded — plows 
ran;  flat  scrapers  and  wheeled  fresnos  followed,  scooped  up 
the  earth,  bore  it  to  the  banks  above;  horses  tugged  and 
strained;  men  toiled,  pausing  only  to  thaw  their  feet  and 
hands  at  fires  burning  by  the  ditch  or  to  drain  great  tin- 
cups  of  the  scalding  coffee  that  the  cooks  dipped  from  cans. 
And  steadily  the  excavation  widened  and  deepened  hour 
by  hour,  the  slope  of  the  sides  becoming  apparent,  the  banks 
rising  higher  and  the  ditch  assuming  its  desired  shape  and 
size.  At  eleven  o'clock  the  cooks  wheeled  immense  canisters 
of  sliced  beef  and  bread  among  the  workmen,  who  seized  the 
food  and  ate  it  as  they  worked.  At  midnight  the  plows 
were  cutting  near  the  bottom,  and  the  work  was  going 
faster,  as  the  frost  did  not  strike  this  deep  into  the  soil.  At 
one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  amid  thickening  snow,  the  last 
scraperfuls  of  dirt  were  going  out,  while  the  engineers,  with 
their  long  rules,  were  checking  depths  and  slopes. 

"By  golly,  she's  about  done!"  exclaimed  Dave,  who  had 
been  permitted  to  remain  up  on  this  eventful  night  and  who 
had  been  moving  about,  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  in  a 
great  state  of  excitement.  "  By  golly,  she  is,  Lee ! " 

"Yes,  by  golly;  the  ditch  you  helped  me  survey,  too." 

"  By  golly,  yes ! "    He  had  forgotten  that. 

The  last  dirt  moved  with  a  rush.  Then,  even  as  the 
teams  were  dragging  the  loads  from  the  excavation,  Car- 
rigan  passed  to  a  foreman  the  word  that  announced  the  end 
of  work.  It  ran  along  the  canal  from  mouth  to  mouth,  at 
first  in  a  call  but  finally  in  a  shout  that  swelled  to  a  roar  of 

269 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

exultation.  That  roar  rang  over  the  snow  and  through 
the  night  like  the  cry  of  an  army  which  has  gained  a  walled 
city. 

"Done!"  said  Bryant,  to  himself. 

Back  to  the  camps  trooped  the  teams  and  men  by  the 
flare  of  the  torches  they  carried  in  jubilation.  Not  a  soul  in 
all  that  company  but  felt  the  triumph  beating  in  Lee's 
heart.  Finished,  built!  Despite  frost  and  snow  they  had 
driven  the  iron  furrow  through  to  the  end,  and  on  time. 
Toil-weary  though  they  were,  their  spirits  were  light. 
They  knew  themselves  fellow-workers  in  a  redoubtable 
achievement. 

Carrigan  and  Bryant  were  among  the  last  to  go.  To 
the  latter  there  was  in  the  fact  of  completion  a  sense  of  un- 
reality. As  he  took  a  final  view  of  the  ditch  before  setting 
out  for  camp,  events  raced  through  his  mind — his  coming, 
his  first  labours,  the  confused  interplay  of  his  life  with 
those  of  the  Menocals,  McDonnell,  Gretzinger,  Carrigan, 
Imogene,  Ruth,  and  Louise;  the  months  of  incessant  toil;  of 
brain-racking  and  body-wearing  endeavour  to  force  the 
canal  forward;  of  unresting  strife  with  frost  and  snow  and 
earth,  of  being  under  a  pitiless  hammer.  He  could  not 
easily  realize  that  he  was  now  free  of  all  this. 

"I  have  an  empty  feeling,"  he  remarked  to  Carrigan. 

"One  always  has  a  'let-down'  after  a  hard  job,"  was 
Pat's  sage  rejoinder.  "You'll  feel  restless  for  maybe  a 
week  now." 

They  went  from  the  spot  up  the  snowy  road  and  turned 
in  at  Pat's  shack  for  a  smoke.  Late  as  it  was,  neither  felt 
the  need  of  sleep  as  yet. 

270 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"'Well,  it's  a  comfort  to  know  that  we  don't  have  to  plug 
again  at  that  ground  in  the  morning,"  Lee  remarked,  with  a 
sigh  of  satisfaction.  He  had  his  feet  on  the  table,  his  body 
relaxed,  and  his  pipe  going. 

"Yeah.  The  only  disappointment  I  have,"  Pat  said, 
"is  not  having  lifted  the  bonds  and  stocks  out  of  Gret- 
zinger.  If  we  hadn't  been  so  pressed  for  time,  we  might 
have  played  him  a  little  till  he  took  the  hook.  I  don't  like 
his  kind  at  all." 

Bryant  laughed. 

"Why,  he's  the  best  friend  I  have,"  he  exclaimed. 
"What  do  you  think  he  did  for  me? " 

"Well,  what?     Besides  trying  to  shake  you  down?" 

"  Pat,  he  carried  off  and  married  my  girl." 

The  contractor  lowered  his  feet,  placed  his  hands  upon 
his  knees,  and  gazed  at  Bryant,  with  brows  down-drawn  and 
under  lip  up-thrust. 

"That  good-for-nothing  Ruth  what's-her-name? "  he 
demanded.  In  all  the  months  of  their  association  it  was 
the  first  time  he  had  ever  spoken  of  her  to  Bryant. 

"Ruth  Gardner,  yes." 

Carrigan  rose,  gave  Lee  a  long  and  solemn  look,  then 
went  to  a  trunk  in  the  corner  of  the  room.  This  he  un- 
locked and  opened.  From  its  interior  he  produced  a  black 
bottle. 

"I  don't  take  a  drink  very  often,"  he  announced,  coming 
forward  and  setting  the  bottle  on  the  table,  "but  this  is  one 
of  the  times.  We'll  take  one  to  celebrate  your  luck." 


271 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

About  the  middle  of  the  next  afternoon  Lee  Bryant  was 
riding  southward  from  camp  on  the  main  mesa  trail.  The  road 
was  difficult  and  his  horse  Dick  made  slow  time  along  the 
snowy  path  broken  by  wagons  through  the  drifts,  but  the 
rider  let  the  animal  choose  his  own  gait,  as  he  had  done  that 
hot  July  day  when  coming  up  from  the  south  to  buy  the 
Perro  Creek  ranch.  On  reaching  the  ford  Lee  pulled  rein. 
How  different  now  the  creek  from  on  that  burning  afternoon 
of  his  encounter  with  Ruth  Gardner  and  Imogene  Martin! 
Snow  covered  its  bed;  the  sands  where  he  had  knelt,  the 
little  pool,  the  foot-prints,  lay  hidden  from  sight.  How 
much  had  happened  since!  And  how  different  was  his  life! 
He  had  suffered  much  and  learned  much  since  that  hour  of 
meeting;  and  he  should  never  henceforth  view  this  spot 
without  a  little  feeling  of  melancholy.  The  youth  and  two 
girls  who  drank  there  at  the  rill  were  no  more:  they  had 
become  other  persons. 

Presently  he  dismissed  thoughts  of  this  and  set  Dick 
wading  across  the  ford.  Yonder  he  now  could  see  the 
three  bare  cottonwoods,  with  the  low  adobe  house  near  by 
where  he  and  Dave  had  lived  and  laboured  at  the  surveys 
for  the  project.  The  bones  of  his  dog  Mike,  too,  rested 
there  under  the  ground.  This  brought  to  mind  the 
meeting  with  Louise  upon  the  road — and  it  was  Louise  to 

272 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

whom  at  this  moment  he  was  going.  He  began  to  urge 
Dick  to  greater  efforts.  Once  on  a  stretch  of  road,  bare  and 
wind-swept,  he  pushed  him  into  a  gallop.  It  seemed  inter- 
minable, this  snow-bound  trail.  But  at  last  he  crossed 
Sarita  Creek  (with  but  a  single  glance  at  the  canon's  mouth 
where  the  two  cabins  stood  untenanted  and  abandoned 
among  the  naked  trees)  and  then  covered  the  long  miles  to 
Diamond  Creek,  and  rode  up  the  lane  between  the  rows  of 
cottonwoods  to  the  house,  where  Louise,  who  had  perceived 
his  approach  from  a  window,  appeared  at  the  door  to  greet 
him. 

"We  were  terribly  alarmed  for  your  safety  the  night  of 
the  blizzard,"  she  said,  "but  the  mail-man  finally  made  his 
trip  to  Bartolo  and  back,  and  said  you  were  still  there  and 
not  blown  away.  And  he  also  stated  that  you  were  working 
night  and  day." 

"  Not  any  more,"  said  Lee,  swinging  from  the  saddle. 

"You  have  finished!  I  can  read  it  on  your  face!"  she 
cried,  joyfully. 

"Yes;  we  threw  out  the  last  clod  at  one  o'clock  this  morn- 
ing." 

"I  needn't  tell  you  that  I'm  proud  and  happy;  you  know 
that,  Lee.  Even  happier  than  when  I  learned  you  were 
able  to  continue,  at  the  time  you  supposed  you  were  unable. 
Put  up  your  horse  and  come  in.  You're  half  frozen." 

Bryant  endeavoured  to  discover  from  her  face  what  he 
wished  to  know,  but  did  not  succeed.  So  he  asked: 

"Have  you  had  your  mail  lately?  " 

"Not  for  three  days.  The  mail-man  made  one  trip  and 
then  the  next  snow  closed  the  road  again  to  Kennard." 

273 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

Lee  went  off  to  stable  Dick.  On  his  return  he  found 
Louise  at  the  door  still  waiting,  and  she  helped  him  to  re- 
move his  overcoat  and  scarf  when  they  passed  in  to  the  fire. 
Then  they  pushed  a  divan  forward  and  she  bade  him  spread 
out  his  hands  before  the  blaze. 

"It  wasn't  so  long  ago  that  we  agreed  we  mustn't  see 
each  other  again,  and  here  we  are  together,"  he  stated,  with 
a  pretense  of  solemnity.  He  extended  his  hands  to  the 
heat  and  moved  his  fingers  about  to  expel  their  numbness. 
"I  don't  know  what  your  father  would  say  if  he  knew 
all  the  circumstances." 

"I — I  don't  know,  either,"  Louise  stammered,  in  dismay 
at  the  thought. 

"How's  Imogene?  "  he  inquired. 

"Improving  slowly.  All  she  needed  was  to  get  away  from 
that  horrid  cabin  and  horrid — well,  surroundings." 

«.  , 

"And  your  father's  here? " 

"At  one  of  the  feed  corrals,  I  think.  He  had  all  the 
cattle  rounded  up  before  the  blizzard  and  held  here  and  fed. 
A  big  task,  with  several  thousand  head." 

"Then  we're  safe,"  said  Lee. 

Louise  looked  at  him  doubtfully.  She  knew  not  what  to 
make  of  this  talk  and  his  portentous  air,  and  felt  a  new 
apprehension  rising  in  her  mind. 

"What  is  it?  What  has  happened  now,  Lee?"  she 
whispered. 

But  all  at  once  he  began  to  laugh.  He  caught  her  hand 
and  holding  it  gazed,  smiling,  into  her  eyes.  Then  he  drew 
from  his  pocket  an  envelope,  which  (still  keeping  prisoner  the 
hand  he  had  captured)  he  waved  to  and  fro  before  her  eyes. 

274 


"If  I  didn't  know  you  well,  I'd  think  you  had  lost  your 
wits,"  she  cried. 

"I  have— wits  and  heart  both.  With  joy!  Wait,  I'll 
take  the  letter  out  so  that  you  can  read  it.  The  only 
blessed  thing  I  ever  knew  her  to  do!  I  bless  her  for  it,  at 
any  rate."  He  pulled  the  letter  and  the  clipping  from 
their  cover  and  laid  them  in  Louise's  hand.  "Read,  read 
the  tidings!" 

The  girl's  fingers  began  to  tremble  as  her  eyes  flitted  along 
the  lines.  But  she  read  no  more  than  the  first  part  of  the  let- 
ter. She  turned  to  him  with  her  eyes  misty,  her  face  radiant. 

"I  could  weep  for  happiness — but  I'm  not  going  to." 
She  made  a  little  dab  with  her  handkerchief  at  her 
lashes.  "Oh,  Lee,  to  think  you're  free!  And  that  now 
we  may  love  each  other!" 

"I  thought  we  did." 

"Of  course  we  did — but  you  know  what  I  mean." 

"You  didn't  read  it  all,"  said  he.  "You  don't  know  yet 
the  poor  opinion  she  has  of  me." 

Louise  crumpled  the  letter  in  her  hand  and  cast  it  into  the 
flames. 

"Nor  do  I  want  to  know  it,"  she  exclaimed.  "All  I  care 
about  is  my  own  opinion  of  you,  and  our  love.  That's 
enough.  Perhaps  we  shall  be  all  the  happier  for  the  little 
misery  she  caused  us." 

Her  eyes  dwelt  proudly  upon  him,  upon  his  face  that 
showed  new  lines  of  strength,  that  was  clear  and  calm,  that 
revealed  a  spirit  come  to  full  manhood,  that  was  luminous 
with  the  love  she  inspired.  He  had  taken  her  hands  and 
was  regarding  her  tenderly. 

275 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

"Ruth  rendered  me  one  service,"  said  he.  "She  taught 
me  that  there's  an  appearance  which  may  be  mistaken  for 
the  substance.  That  shall  be  to  her  credit."  He  sat  silent, 
smiling  thoughtfully  for  a  moment.  Then  he  raised  his 
eyes  and  drew  Louise  toward  him.  "But  you,  Louise, 
awoke  real  love." 

ffis  arms  enclosed  her  fast  and  their  lips  met  in  a  first 
Mss. 

"We  shall  walk  among  the  flowers  and  in  the  orchard 
again,  Lee  dear,"  she  murmured,  "as  we  did  once  before. 
And  I  shall  bring  you  buttermilk  as  I  did  that  morning — but 
there  will  be  no  Charlie  Menocal." 

"No.     Charlie  won't  annoy  us  in  the  future." 

"And  when  the  snow  is  gone  we'll  ride  along  your 
canal " 

"Our  canal  now,  sweetheart." 

"Along  our  canal  and  see  where  you  worked  so  hard  and 
struggled  and  won,  and  I'll  listen  while  you  point  here  and 
there  and  tell  of  the  obstacles  overcome,  and  of  all  you  did. 
We  shall  be  gay  and  happy." 

"As  I'm  happy  now,"  he  said,  softly.  "Do  you  know 
what  I  see  there  in  the  firelight?  A  building,  a  house — our 
home." 

Louise's  face  lifted  to  his,  all  sweetness  and  trust. 

"  I  see  it,  too,"  she  murmured. 

"On  Perro  Creek  ranch,"  Lee  continued,  "with  the  sage- 
brush gone  and  in  its  place  fields  of  grain  and  alfalfa  spread- 
ing out  to  the  horizon,  with  water  rippling  along  hi  little 
canals  and  fat  cows  standing  about,  and  contented  farmers  at 
work,  and  perhaps  a  railroad  somewhere  in  the  background, 

276 


THE    IRON    FURROW 

and  ourselves  in  the  foreground  by  our  new  home,  where 
flowers  are  growing,  too,  and — and " 

Louise's  arms  slipped  up  and  about  his  neck,  until  her 
cheek  rested  against  his. 

"You  dream  and  then  you  build — you  dream  and  make 
your  dreams  come  true,"  she  said.  "You're  my  dreamer- 
builder." 

Lee  was  smiling.  The  caress  in  her  words,  the  warm 
touch  of  her  cheek,  her  heart  beating  against  his,  all  made 
his  happiness  complete. 

"And  your  lover,"  he  whispered. 


THE    END 


277 


Popular  Copyright  Novels 

AT  MODERATE  PRICES 

Ask  Your  Dealer  for  a  Complete  List  of 
A.  L.  Burt  Company's  Popular  Copyright  Fiction 


Adventures  of  Jimmie  Dale,  The.     By  Frank  L.  Packard. 

Adventures  of  Sherlock  Holmes.     By  A.  Conan  Doyle. 

After  House,  The.     By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 

Ailsa  Paige.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Alton  of  Somasco.     By  Harold  Bindloss. 

Amateur  Gentleman,  The.     By  Jeffery  Farnol. 

Anna,  the  Adventuress.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Anne's  House  of  Dreams.     By  L.  M.  Montgomery. 

Around  Old  Chester.     By  Margaret  Deland. 

Athalie.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

At  the  Mercy  of  Tiberius.     By  Augusta  Evans  Wilson. 

Auction  Block,  The.    By  Rex  Beach. 

Aunt  Jane  of  Kentucky.    By  Eliza  C.  Hall. 

Awakening  of  Helena  Richie.    By  Margaret  Deland. 

Bab:  a  Sub-Deb.     By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 

Barrier,  The.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Barbarians.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Bargain  True,  The.     By  Nalbro  Bartley. 

Bar  20.     By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Bar  20  Days.     By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Bars  of  Iron,  The.     By  Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Beasts  of  Tarzan,  The.    By  Edgar  Rice  Burroughs. 

Beloved  Traitor,  The.     By  Frank  L.  Packard. 

Beltane  the  Smith.     By  Jeffery  Farnol. 

Betrayal,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Beyond  the  Frontier.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Big  Timber.     By  Bertrand  W.  Sinclair. 

Black  Is  White.     By  George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Blind    Man's    Eyes,   The.      By   Wm.    MacHarg    and    Edwin 

Balmer. 

Bob,  Son  of  Battle.     By  Alfred  Ollivant. 
Boston  Blackie.    By  Jack  Boyle. 
Boy  with  Wings,  The.     By  Berta  Ruck. 
Brandon  of  the  Engineers.    By  Harold  Bindloss. 
Broad  Highway.  The.     By  Jeffery  Fcirnol 
Brown  Study,  The.     By  Grare  S.  Richmond. 
Bruce  of  the  Circle  A.     By  Harold  Titus. 
Buck  Peters.  Ranchman.     By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 
Business  of  Life,  The.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 


Popular  Copyright  Novels 

AT  MODERATE  PRICES 

Ask  Your  Dealer  for  a  Complete  List  of 
A.  L.  Burt  Company's  Popular  Copyright  Fiction 


Cabbages  and  Kings.    By  O.  Henry. 

Cabin  Fever.    By  B.  M.  Bower. 

Calling  of  Dan  Matthews,  The.    By  Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Cape  Cod  Stories.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Cap'n  Abe,  Storekeeper.    By  James  A.  Cooper. 

Cap'n  Dan's  Daughter.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Cap'n  Eri.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Cap'n  Jonah's  Fortune.    By  James  A.  Cooper. 

Cap'n  Warren's  Wards.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Chain  of  Evidence,  A.    By  Carolyn  Wells. 

Chief  Legatee,  The.    By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 

Cinderella  Jane.    By  Marjorie  B.  Cooke. 

Cinema  Murder,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

City  of  Masks,  The.     By  George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Cleek  of  Scotland  Yard.     By  T.  W.  Hanshew. 

Cleek,  The  Man  of  Forty  Faces.     By  Thomas  W.  Hanshew. 

deck's  Government  Cases.    By  Thomas  W.  Hanshew. 

Clipped  Wings.     By  Rupert  Hughes. 

Clue,  The.     By  Carolyn  Wells. 

Clutch  of  Circumstance,  The.    By  Marjorie  Benton  Cooke. 

Coast  of  Adventure,  The.    By  Harold  Bindloss. 

Coming  of  Cassidy,  The.     By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Coming  of  the  Law,  The.     By  Chas.  A.  Seltzer. 

Conquest  of  Canaan,  The.    By  Booth  Tarkington. 

Conspirators,  The.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Court  of  Inquiry,  A.    By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Cow  Puncher,  The.     By  Robert  J.  C.  Stead. 

Crimson  Gardenia,  The,  and  Other  Tales  of  Adventure. _  By 

Rex  Beach. 

Cross  Currents.    By  Author  of  "Pollyanna." 
Cry  in  the  Wilderness,  A.    By  Mary  E.  Waller.  > 

Danger,  And  Other  Stories.    By  A.  Conan  Doyle? 
Dark  Hollow,  The.     By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 
Dark  Star,  The.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 
Daughter  Pays<  The.     By  Mrs.  Baillie  Reynolds.) 
Day  of  Days,  The.    By  Louis  Joseph  Vance. 
Depot  Master,  The.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 
Desired  Woman,  The.    By  Will  N.  Harben. 


Popular  Copyright  Novels 

AT  MODERATE  PRICES 

Ask  Your  Dealer  for  a  Complete  List  of 
A.  L.  Burt  Company's  Popular  Copyright  Fiction 


Destroying  Angel,  The.    By  Louis  Jos.  Vance. 

Devil's  Own,  The.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Double  Traitor,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenhcim. 

Empty  Pockets.     By  Rupert  Hughes. 

Eyes  of  the  Blind,  The.     By  Arthur  Somers  Roche. 

Eye  of  Dread,  The.     By  Payne  Erskine. 

Eyes  of  the  World,  The.     By  Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Extricating  Obadiah.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Felix  O'Day.     By  F.  Hopkinson  Smith. 
54-40  or  Fight.     By  Emerson  Hough. 
Fighting  Chance,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 
Fighting  Shepherdess,  The.     By  Caroline  Lockhart. 
Financier,  The.     By  Theodore  Dreiser. 
Flame,  The.     By  Olive  Wadsley. 
Flamsted  Quarries.     By  Mary  E.  Wallar. 
Forfeit,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 
Four  Million,  The.    By  O.  Henry. 
Fruitful  Vine,  The.     By  Robert  Hichens. 

Further   Adventures   of   jimmie   Dale,   The.     By   Frank    L. 
Packard. 

Girl  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  A.    By  Payne  Erskine. 

Girl  from  Keller's,  The.    By  Harold  Bindloss. 

Girl  Philippa.  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Girls  at  His  Billet,  The.     By  Berta  Ruck. 

God's  Country  and  the  Woman.    By  James  Oliver  Curwooi. 

Going  Some.    By  Rex  Beach. 

Golden  Slipper,  The.     By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 

Golden  Woman,  The.     By  Ridgwell   Cullum. 

Greater  Love  Hath  No  Man.    By  Frank  L.  Packard. 

Greyfriars  Bobby.    By  Eleanor  Atkinson. 

Gun  Brand,  The.     By  James  B.  Hendryx. 

Halcyone.    By  Elinor  Glyn. 

Hand  of  Fu-Manchu,  The.    By  Sax  Rohmer. 

Havoc.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Heart  of  the  Desert.  The.    By  Honore  Willsie. 

Heart  of  the  Hills,  The.    By  John  Fox,  Jr. 


AT  MODERATE  PRICES 

Ask  Your  Dealer  for  a  Complete  List  of 
A.  L.  Burt  Company's  Popular  Copyright  Fiction 


Heart  of  the  Sunset.    By  Rex  Beach. 

Heart  of  Thunder  Mountain,  The.     By  Edfrid  A.  Bingham. 

Her  Weight  in  Gold.    By  Geo.  B.  McCutcheon. 

Hidden  Children,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Hidden  Spring,  The.     By  Clarence  B.  Keiland. 

Hillir.an,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Hills  of  Refuge,  The.     By  Will  N.  Harben. 

His  Official  Fiancee.     By  Berta  Ruck. 

Honor  of  the  Big  Snows.     By  James  Oliver  Curwood. 

Hopalong  Cassidy.     By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Kound  from  the  North,  The.    By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

House  of  the  Whispering  Pines,  The.     By  Anna  Katharine 

Green. 
Hugh  Wynne,  Free  Quaker.    By  S.  Weir  Mitchell,  M.D. 

I  Conquered.    By  Harold  Titus. 

Illustrious  Prince,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

In  Another  Girl's  Shoes.    By  Berta  Ruck. 

Indifference  of  Juliet,  The.     By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Infelice.     By  Augusta  Evans  Wilson. 

Initials  Only.     By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 

Inner  Law,  The.     By  Will  N.  Harben. 

Innocent.     By  Marie  Corelli. 

Insidious  Dr.  Fu-Manchu,  The.    By  Sax  Rohmer. 

In  the  Brooding  Wild.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Intriguers,  The.     By  Harold  Bindloss. 

Iron  Trail,  The.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Iron  Woman.  The.     By  Margaret  Deland. 

I  Spy.     By  Natalie  Sumner  Lincoln. 

Japonette.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Jean  of  the  Lazy   A.     By  B.  M.  Bower. 

Jeanne  of  the  Marshes.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Jennie  Gerhardt.     By  Theodore  Dreiser. 

Judgment  House,  The.     By  Gilbert  Parker. 

Keeper  of  the  Door,  The.    T>  Eft?!  M.  Dell. 
Keith  of  trv-  BoMer.     P,v  Pqndall  Parrisli.  ^ 
Kent  Knowles:  Otiahau?.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 
Kingdom  of  the  Blind,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 


Popular  Copyright  Novels 

AT  MODERATE  PRICES 

Ask  Your  Dealer  for  a  Complete  List  of 
A.  L.  Burt  Company's  Popular  Copyright  Fiction 


King  Spruce.    By  Holman  Day. 

King's  Widow,  The.     By  Mrs.  Baillie  Reynolds. 

Knave  of  Diamonds,  The.    By  Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Ladder  of  Swords.     By  Gilbert  Parker. 

Lady  Betty  Across  the  Water.     By  C.  N.  &  A.  M.  William- 

son. 

Land-Girl's  Love  Story,  A.    By  Berta  Ruck. 
Landloper,  The.     By  Holman  Day. 
Land  cf  Long  Ago,  The.     By  Eliza  Calvert  Hall. 
Land  of  Strong  Men,  The.    By  A.  M.  Chisholm. 
La'.t  Trrnl,  The.     By  Zane  Grey. 
Laugh  and  Live.     By  Douglas  Fairbanks. 
Laughing  Bill  Hyde.     By  Rex  Beach. 
Laughing  Girl,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 
Law  Breakers,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 
Lifted  Veil.  The.     By  Basil  King. 
Lighted  Way,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Lin  McLean.     By  Owen  Wister. 
Lonesome  Lend.    By  B.  M.  Bow°r. 
Lone  Wolf,  The.     By  Louis  Joseph  Vance. 
Long  Ever  Ago.    By  Rupert  Hughes. 
Lonely  Stronghold,  The.     By  Mrs.  BaiU->  "Rpvnolds. 
Long  Live  the  King.     By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 
Long  Roll,  The.     By  Mary  Johnston. 
Lord  Tcry'r  Wife.     By  Raroress  Orczv. 
Lost  Ambassador.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Lost  Prince,  The.     By  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett. 
Lydia  cf  the  Pines.    By  Honore  Willsie. 

Maid  of  the  Forest,  The.     By  Randall  Parrh1i. 

Maid  of  the  Whispering  Hills,  The.    Bv  Vi"«*i»  E    Roe. 

Maids  of  Paradise,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Maior,  The.     By  Ralph  Connor 

Maker  of  H^tory,  A.     By  E    Phillips  Onnenheim. 

Malefactor,  The.     Bv  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Man  from  Bar  20,  The.     By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Man  in  Grey  The.     By  Baroness  Orczy. 

Man  Trail,  The.     By  Henry  Oyen. 

Man  Who  Couldn't  Sleep,  The.    By  Arthur  Stringer, 


Popular  Copyright  Novels 

AT  MODERATE  PRICES 

Ask  Your  Dealer  for  a  Complete  List  of 
A.  L.  Burt  Company's  Popular  Copyright  Fiction 


Man  with  the  Club  Foot,  The.    By  Valentine  Williams. 

Mary-'Gusta.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Mary  Moreland.    By  Marie  Van  Vorst. 

Mary  Regan.     By  Leroy  Scott. 

Master  Mummer,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Memoirs  of  Sherlock  Holmes.     By  A.  Conan  Doyle. 

Men  Who  Wrought,  The.    By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Mischief  Maker,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Missioner,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Miss  Million's  Maid.     By  Berta  Rue;:. 

Molly  McDonald.    By  Randall  Parrish. 

Money  Master,  The.    By  Gilbe-t  Parker. 

Money  Moon,  The.    By  Jeffery  FarnoL 

Mountain  Girl,  The.    By  Payne  Erskine. 

Moving  Finger,  The.     By  Natalie  Sumner  Lincoln. 

Mr.  Bingle.    By  George  Barr  McCutchepn. 

Mr.  Grex  of  Monte  Carlo.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Mr.  Pratt.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Mr.  Pratt's  Patients.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Mrs.  Belfame.    By  Gertrude  Atherton. 

Mrs.  Red  Pepper.    By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

My  Lady  Caprice.    By  Jeffrey  Farnol. 

My  Lady  of  the  North.    By  Randall  Parrish. 

My  Lady  of  the  South.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Mystery  of  the  Hasty  Arrow,  The.    By  Anna  K.  Green. 

Nameless  Man,  The.     By  Nataile  Sumner  Lincoln. 

Ne'er-Do- Well,  The.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Nest  Builders,  The.    By  Beatrice  Forbes-Robertson  Hale. 

Net,  The.    By  Rex  Beach. 

New  Clarion.    By  Will  N.  Harben. 

Night  Operator,  The.     By  Frank  L.  Packard. 

Night  Riders,  The.    By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Nobody.    By  Louis  Joseph  Vance. 

Okewood  of  the  Secret  Service.     By  the  Author  of  "Th« 

Man  with  the  Club  Foot." 
One  Way  Trail,  The.    By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 
Open,  Sesame.     By  Mrs.  Baillie  Reynolds. 
Otherwise  Phyllis.    By  Meredith  Nicholson. 
Outlaw,  The.    By  Jackson  Gregory. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACJLITY 


A     000126902     6 


